Star-Crossed, Colorado
by deepfriedcake
Summary: The Gilmore Girls go West! Saddle up, partners, as we take a trip back to those thrilling days of yesteryear! Follow the adventures of our favorite characters in a small town in 1880's Colorado. Lorelai in petticoats! Luke in spurs! Taylor in...well, Taylor's still in a cardigan. Catch the next stagecoach and come along for the ride!
1. Why the Sheriff Likes Wednesdays

**Author's Note:** Last winter a group of us on the fanfic thread at TWoP were throwing out ideas for some off-beat Gilmore Girls stories, including putting the show into different genres. The idea of turning Gilmore Girls into a Western really captivated me and I spent a sleepless night scribbling out an outline. However, at that time my dear friend _Jmaka_ was in the midst of writing her own Western tale of romance, and I didn't want to accidentally tread too closely to anything she was doing, even though (true to her generous character!) she gave me her blessing. Sadly, she has since passed away, and I've decided to go ahead and write mine after all, hoping that it may serve as a sort of clumsy tribute to her. Instead of shying away from details that were going to be similar to her story, I'm going to fully embrace them. (But probably my story will not be all that similar in many ways – I'm sure _Jmaka_ would have found a quite different use for any handcuffs owned by the Sheriff!) In closing, let me just say that I continue to miss her humor and friendship and stories every day.

To _Eledgy_, my beautiful beta, a big thank you! Your input and support and enthusiasm has made writing so much fun again!

One last note about historical accuracy: probably there is none! I readily admit that my knowledge comes from obsessive childhood reading of Laura Ingalls Wilder's _Little House_ books, James Michener's _Centennial,_ and growing up watching too many Westerns on TV.

_And now, our story begins..._

* * *

**Star-Crossed, Colorado**

**"Why the Sheriff Likes Wednesdays"**

The tentative spring sunshine was finally beginning to warm the back of Sheriff Luke Danes' neck. He glanced upwards, judging the time by the location of the golden orb overhead. Not wanting to believe what his eyes so clearly told him, he grasped the reins with one hand, and with the other pulled out the pocket watch that had once belonged to his father. The watch confirmed the bad news.

"Come on, Cletus," he urged, digging his heels into the horse's flank.

Cletus tossed his head and looked back towards his rider with a disdainful snort. Luke swore the animal even rolled his eyes.

He was still a good two miles from town. If he had any hopes of making this meeting at all, he and Cletus needed to fly. He leaned forward in the saddle, closer to the horse's ear.

"Look, I know we're not chasing any desperadoes here, but sometimes there's more important things to consider than law enforcement. So giddy-up, will ya!"

Cletus continued his sedate trot towards the group of buildings just visible in the distance.

"Here's my final offer. Get me there in time and there's an apple in it for you."

Their pace didn't alter. Luke sighed mightily and then blew out a breath of disgust at what he was about to do. "Please," he muttered.

Cletus tossed his head again and took off running so abruptly that Luke was thrown back in the saddle. "Damn horse," he growled, pulling himself upright, but he was almost smiling as he said it.

They sped down the dusty road leading to Star-Crossed, Colorado, a nice enough community of some 3,000-odd souls in this quiet northwestern section of the state. ('Odd' being the operative word, Luke often thought.) A discovery of silver back in the '60's had led to a temporary boomtown, but when the silver went bust the area had settled back into a collection of ranchers and sugar beet farmers. Thanks to the train depot the town prospered and grew a little bit year-by-year, although it had never grown to the Denver-sized figures once projected.

That suited Sheriff Danes just fine. He appreciated not having to deal with the big-city crimes he read about in the papers. Riding out to settle a water rights claim or a property dispute was more in line with his temperament than having to chase down bank robbers. He was glad that usually the worst thing he was called on to handle was a rambunctious drunk at Miss Patty's Saloon.

Luke turned Cletus into the livery stable at the end of the main street of town. Normally he would unsaddle the horse himself, wipe him down, and make sure he was comfortable. But today he was already late for his meeting, probably the only thing he actually looked forward to during the entire week.

Sergio, one of the young stable hands, peeked around a stall at him. "Hallo, Sheriff!"

Luke dismounted and quickly handed the reins to the boy, startling him. "I'm late, Serge. Can you take care of Cletus today?"

"Sure!" The boy's eyes shone with pride at having been asked to care for the Sheriff's horse, an unexpected honor.

"Thanks." Luke found a coin in his pocket and passed it to Sergio. He nodded and started out, but remembered something else at the last minute. "Oh, and give 'im an apple, would you? Forgot I promised him one."

Sergio laughed. "Sheriff, the horse don't know that!"

"This one does," Luke refuted, rushing for the door. "I'll check back later."

He smacked at his brown leather coat while he strode down the street towards Doose's Mercantile, trying to persuade the dust to leave its long folds. Right before he opened the door he took off his hat, batting it against his thigh to clean the dust off of it, too. He kept the hat in his hand while he walked through the store, smoothing back his wayward hair as he went, nodding at the various townspeople he passed.

"Sheriff! There you are! If I may have a word?"

With a groan Luke stopped. He had fervently hoped that this would be the one day he'd be able to bypass Taylor Doose, the world's most annoying man, but apparently that was asking too much.

"Mr. Doose," he said tonelessly, turning around. "What is it today?" He tried to tamp down his impatience.

The thumb and index finger of Taylor's right hand instantly went to the waxed end of his mustache and curved it upward, just one of the irritating habits displayed by the store's owner. "The Banyan boys were in here again today. You promised me you were going to handle those hooligans. I can't keep my store afloat if I have to take a loss every time those rascals walk by the candy counter."

Luke stared down at the rotund shopkeeper. He realized all at once that everything about the man bothered him, from his fussy bow tie, the cardigans he wore throughout the year, and most especially the white apron he insisted on tying around his broad middle every day, even though he rarely, if ever, had to wait on someone behind the counter. Plus, this was a conversation they had at least once a week.

"Did anyone see them take something?" Luke asked.

"That has nothing to do with it!" Taylor snapped. "You promised me you were going to keep them out of my establishment!"

"No, I believe what I promised you was that I'd go out to their farm and talk with their mother, which I did." Luke folded his arms and ducked his head, the better to give a rather menacing look Taylor's way. "The poor woman has her hands full. Her husband's gone to try and find work in one of the mines in Utah. She's home with a baby and two other little ones. She's trying her best with these three older boys, but they're old enough to figure out where to find trouble, and too young to realize how much their mother needs them. If you really want to nip this in the bud, offer the oldest one a job sweeping up or something. It'd keep him off the streets and then he could help wrangle his brothers. It'd solve your problem."

"Offer that urchin a job?" Taylor looked horrified. "He deserves to be in jail, not profiting from the sweat of my brow!"

"I don't jail ten year olds," Luke said flatly.

From somewhere further in the store, a melodious laugh pealed out. The sheriff turned towards the sound at once, ignoring the sputtering little man beside him. "Good day, Mr. Doose."

"We are not done discussing this!" Taylor fumed, but the sheriff had already moved away.

At the notion's counter, pretty Mrs. Gilmore was poring over several spools of ribbon laid out in front of her. Luke's heart thudded in relief. Thank goodness he wasn't too late.

He moved to the other end of the counter, looking at packets of needles, trying not to stare at the dark curls escaping from the knot of hair on the back of her head. He stared at the needles and thread and the pincushions instead, trying to make his 6-foot-plus frame somehow blend in with the feminine clientele milling about in this section of the store.

"Oh, Sheriff! Excellent!" Mrs. Gilmore laughed another one of those golden-toned chuckles. "I need a man's perspective here. Which of these ribbons do you think would help to spruce up my old bonnet and show me off to my best advantage?"

Luke turned, nodding a clumsy greeting to Miss Essie behind the counter before trusting himself to look at Mrs. Gilmore's lovely face, graced with her perpetual smile.

She indicated the three choices laid out on the counter. "Which one?"

"This one," he said at once, tapping the sapphire blue in the middle.

"Really?" She held it up against the side of her face. "Are you sure? Why this one? The pink is awfully pretty."

"It matches your eyes," he said without thought, too caught up in the nearness of her and those blue eyes to edit what was coming out of his mouth.

She looked downward as if embarrassed, but she still smiled with pleasure. "That settles it then, Essie. The sheriff surely knows best. Two yards, please. And maybe I'll recount my pennies and come back next week for that pink-sprigged lawn you showed me."

Mrs. Gilmore sent a swift, saucy look his way. "I've heard tell that all sorts of entertainments are going to be available to us this summer. Concerts in the square, I've heard, and maybe even a traveling theater group. It doesn't hurt a lady to be prepared to attend such gatherings, just in case some gentleman should ask her to go."

Luke uneasily stuck his thumbs in his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels. He was used to Mrs. Gilmore's forthright speech, but habitually he found himself unsure about how to respond. Was she telling him she'd like him to ask her to go to these upcoming activities? Was she letting him know that someone else had already asked her? Or was she just stating a fact, something that didn't require him to answer at all? The woman was beautiful, and quick-witted, and probably too clever for her own good, and, more often than not, simply a complete mystery to him.

"Is that right?" he mumbled, hoping that response would suffice no matter what her motive.

She gave another merry laugh and counted out her money into Essie's hand. "So Sheriff, what lures you into the mercantile today? Do you need new ribbons for your hat, too?"

"Oh, um…" He jerked his shoulder awkwardly towards the needles. "I could use a packet of needles. Tore the sleeve on one of my shirts last week."

"Oh, were you chasing down some ne'er-do-well?" She struck a breathless, admiring pose. "Mr. Doose, perhaps?"

He chuckled and glanced down at his feet, feeling heat sear across his cheeks as she teased him. "No. Tore it on a nail while I was trying to fix a shelf up in my rooms."

"Well, by all means, bring the shirt to me, Mr. Danes. I'll wager I could get it mended more efficiently than you could. And then _you_ are free to turn your attention to the more pressing needs of the town." Mrs. Gilmore's expertise with a needle was highly praised. Although she earned her living running the boarding house in town, her seamstress skills supplemented her income. "It would be my pleasure to mend it for you," she added, beaming at him without any pretense for once.

The heat that had warmed his face now seemed to be dripping down his chest and spreading to further points south. The thought of her elegant fingers piecing together the edges of his old work shirt seemed too intimate an activity to even contemplate. Luke cleared his throat in discomfort. "Thank you, but it's a chore I can handle. My mother made sure I could sew on a button and mend a seam. I think she suspected no woman would ever put up with me, so she wanted to make sure I was prepared."

"I suspect your sainted mother was sadly mistaken in that belief, Sheriff." Mrs. Gilmore nodded with certainty, making no attempt to hide her admiration as she took in his broad shoulders and tall frame. "I suspect a long line of women would wait upon your doorstep, willing to pay _you_ for the privilege of mending your clothing, should you ever make that request known."

Sometimes the lighthearted bantering Mrs. Gilmore subjected him to made him as tongue-tied as a gawky boy again. Once again he cleared his throat, giving himself a chance to put some words together. "Thanks, but if it's all the same to you, I think I'll fix my shirt myself and save the ladies of the town from that spectacle. Can't have loitering, you know. Then I'd be forced to arrest 'em."

The young widow laughed at that. "Very well. But know that my offer still stands, if my sewing skills are needed at any time."

"There you are, Lorelai. Anything else today?" Essie had wrapped the length of ribbon and slipped it into Mrs. Gilmore's basket.

"No, thank you, Essie. I need to be getting home." She dipped her head apologetically towards Essie, but made sure her eyes included Luke. "I like to be there waiting when school gets out. And the train will be pulling in soon, so if any guests are looking for a room, they'll be wending their way up the hill to me directly. My afternoon out is drawing to a close, I'm afraid."

"Let me take that for you." Luke picked up the basket full of the fruits of her shopping before she could reach for it.

"Oh, but your needles!" Lorelai protested.

"I'll pick them up on the way back," Luke said casually, nodding at the sales clerk.

"Certainly, Sheriff," Miss Essie agreed, her lips quivering in a way that might have suggested she was holding back a knowing smirk.

Their progress through the store took several minutes, as Mrs. Gilmore paused more than once to exclaim over some piece of merchandise she insisted he needed. At last they reached the door, which he opened for her, standing aside so she could exit first. It was a moment he looked forward to each week, that instant when she passed close enough to him that if he dared, he could do much more than merely sniff at the light scent she'd dabbed onto her tempting neck.

"I see that yet again we've had a coincidence, Sheriff," she observed, once they'd started down the wooden planks lining the street.

"How so, Mrs. Gilmore?"

"Once again fate placed us both at Doose's to do our shopping at the same time. Our weekly habits do seem to be attuned, do they not?"

"They do indeed, ma'am." Luke glanced to the other side of the street, partly because he was ever-vigilant about their town, and partly to hide the smile on his face.

"Although I confess, rather than sewing needles, I guessed you might be looking for shaving supplies."

Luke slapped a hand over the several days' growth of whiskers on his face. Normally he stopped by the barbershop before heading over to Doose's. "My apologies for my appearance," he said with a sigh. "Caleb Turner thought he had a head of sheep rustled last night, so I had to ride out there to see to it. Took me most of the day till now to solve the crime."

She didn't notice the sarcastic slant he put on 'crime.' "Oh, no!" Mrs. Gilmore stopped and looked up at him, genuinely horrified. "Not rustlers, here? Was anyone hurt? Are you all right?"

"Everyone's fine," he assured her, although feeling a bit puffed up from her concern. "Even the dozen sneaky sheep are safe. They found a weak spot in the fence and got out, and then the Johnson's dog got wind of 'em and herded 'em over to their farm. It took some time to sort it all out, but all's well now."

"Well, that's a relief! I'd hate to think that such things could happen here."

"Bad things can happen anywhere, ma'am," he reminded her darkly.

"But surely not on such a beautiful day," she insisted with her infectious smile, and threw her arm out to encompass the clear blue sky overhead.

"It is beautiful," he agreed, smiling directly into those jewel-toned eyes that beat the color of the sky any day of the week, in his opinion.

They reached the end of the wooden walkway. Luke offered her his arm to aid her in stepping down to the dirt of the street. She nodded her thanks, tucking her fingers around the inside of his elbow, and kept her light grip there as they continued the slightly elevated trek up the street to the boarding house. Abruptly, Luke changed his mind about what constituted his favorite part of Wednesdays.

He'd known Mrs. Gilmore for years, ever since she'd appeared on her Aunt Mia's doorstep one night, probably some sixteen years ago now. She'd been practically a child herself at that time, although she was already widowed and clutching a sick, feverish infant. Mia Holloway had embraced her ready-made family with all of the love she'd been stockpiling for years, and her niece had returned the love with gratitude, helping her aunt run the boarding house and eventually taking it over upon her death three years past.

Knowing of her and being conscious of her in a heart-stopping sort of way, though, were two very different things. Luke wasn't sure what had happened several years back, to make him so keenly aware of her every move. He didn't know when the need had developed in him to know where she was during every minute of the day. Maybe it had happened at the same time he found that his overpowering grief had lifted. He only knew that he was drawn to her as a moth to a flame, burning with a fierce desire to see her safe and happy.

In the sixteen years since arriving in Star-Crossed, Mrs. Gilmore had kept herself busy at the boarding house, tending that establishment with as much energy and devotion as she showed to her daughter, Rory. It was apparent to all that she doted on the girl, who was just as bright and pretty as her mother. It was only recently that Mrs. Gilmore's more frivolous side had started to emerge. She began to attend more functions in town, stopping often to smile and speak to everyone passing on the street. She seemed to suddenly thrive on bedeviling Mr. Doose, a hobby of which Luke thoroughly approved. At about the same time those blue eyes had started to sparkle his way. Although…he could be wrong about that. It could be it was only his own potent yearning trying to convince him that was true.

"Do you mind if we go around the back?" Mrs. Gilmore asked as they approached the large two-story structure that had taken in travelers and those between homes for as long as the sheriff could remember. "I'm sure Sookie's back in the kitchen, this time of day. Wouldn't surprise me if she could be persuaded to offer you up a cup of tea."

Luke lowered his head against the bright smile Mrs. Gilmore sent his way. "I'm delighted to walk around to the back, and I'm always happy to see Sookie, but I don't need a cup of tea." He took a quick breath and continued. "Or a piece of pie, or a slice of bread with jam, or a roast beef sandwich, either." He well-knew how much Susannah Belleville, the boarding house cook, loved to feed people.

"You deserve some type of reward, carrying my parcels home for me."

"Not a bother," he asserted.

"Did you even have dinner today?" she suddenly demanded, meaning the noontime meal. "You were out at the Turner's all morning, you said. Have you eaten anything?" They were almost to the back door, but she stopped and blocked his path, looking miffed. "I don't want to have to provide alterations to your clothes because you've grown thin from lack of sustenance. You need your strength to handle the bad elements Mr. Doose is constantly warning us about. I've a mind to tell Sookie she needs to fatten you up, for the good of the town if for no other reason."

He sensed there was a hint of true concern buried in her joshing, and that was enough to bring a satisfied smile to his face. "Mrs. Turner insisted I have a bowl of stew," he assured her. "Not as good as Sookie's but it was filling all the same."

"Hmph," Mrs. Gilmore snorted, flouncing her skirts. She trotted up the steps and opened the back door. "Sookie!" she cried out, using her friend's lifelong nickname. "I'm back, and the Sheriff needs –"

A swirl of calico stopped them at the door. "Oh! Just in time! Help –" Sookie grabbed the basket from Luke and passed it to Lorelai. In the next second she thrust her six-month-old son into Luke's hands. "Just hold –"Another blur of the calico and she bobbed over to the counter, grabbing some towels, and then leaped to the oven. In a flash two pies were out and cooling on the table. "There!" she said in proud triumph.

While his mother was dancing around the kitchen, Davey Belleville regarded Luke coolly, reminding him somewhat of Cletus' doubtful expression not that much earlier in the day. Normally Luke would rather chase down a pickpocket than handle an infant, but young Davey seemed to be settling into his arms rather nicely. He was solid and sturdy, and for once Luke didn't have the fear of accidentally squishing him or dropping him or doing something that was going to make him cry. Plus, instead of sour milk, Davey smelled like he'd just been rolled in a mixture of cinnamon sugar. The baby was warm and cuddly against him, and for possibly the first time ever, Luke felt competent to hold an infant.

The shiny star pinned to his chest attracted Davey's attention. His stubby fingers reached for it, tracing over and pulling against the separate points. When the badge refused to give, Davey leaned forward, trying to capture the bright metal with his mouth.

"Whoa, now. Hold on there." Luke dipped his body and tried to reposition the little boy, not wanting the badge to hurt those tender gums. "You don't wanna do that, son."

He looked over to the women for help and found that both of them were standing still in rapture, watching him and the baby with dewy eyes. "What?" he snapped, looking down at the baby, and then his legs, and finally even holding Davey out away from him a little bit and examining his chest. "What am I doing wrong?" he demanded of them.

Sookie shook herself out of the spell first. "Nothing, Luke. You're doing nothing wrong. In fact –" she chuckled gleefully and looked slyly over at her friend, "I'd say he's doing everything right, wouldn't you, Lorelai?"

"I'd say he's a natural," Lorelai agreed, lowering her abashed face into the basket full of shopping. "Here's the baking powder you needed," she said, abruptly changing the subject. "I was able to get some vanilla, too."

Sookie hurried over to take the baking supplies from Lorelai. "Luke, can I offer you a cup of tea?"

"Not today, thanks." Since neither of them seemed in a hurry to relieve him of the baby, he began jostling the boy, hoping he'd stay tear-free for another few minutes. "Jackson around?"

"No, he rode out to the claim today. The weather's been so good, he's hoping to start planting yet this week." Sookie and her husband had finally saved up enough money to buy a parcel of land just east of town. They were working the land and putting in improvements, but hadn't yet been able to build a house on the plot or earn a living off of it. Jackson sold the produce he raised during the summer and did odd jobs the rest of the year, while his wife continued cooking at the boarding house, a job she'd excelled at since she was barely into her teens. Luke had known her even longer than that, when they were both children at school. Their long acquaintance was why he felt so comfortable standing here now in her domain. The boarding house might belong to Mrs. Gilmore, but the kitchen would always be Sookie's.

"The weather_ is_ turning nice," Luke agreed. "Finally," he added, since the winter had been long and dreary. Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed the hour, making him grimace. "If I can persuade one of you to come take the baby, here, I'd best be going. I imagine my deputy is wondering what happened to me."

Sookie came to get Davey, and he made one more futile grab at Luke's badge. "Hmm, maybe _he_ wants to be your deputy," Sookie chuckled. Thwarted at his attempts to get the shiny plaything, Davey's face crumpled into sobs. "Aww, there, there," she soothed the boy. "It's not the end of the world." She held him against her and patted his back. "Lorelai, I'm going to go try and get him settled down into a nap. I'll be back as soon as I can to put the finishing touches on the dinner preparation. Just stir the soup when you can."

"Of course," Lorelai nodded, but she looked nervously over at the big stockpot simmering on the stove.

Luke headed to the door, Lorelai trailing behind him.

"You're sure there's nothing I can offer to entice you to stay longer, Sheriff?"

Now on the back stoop, Luke gulped in a steadying breath of the dry air. Knowing Mrs. Gilmore, it was quite possible she fully intended for her words to have a double meaning.

"Thank you, but not today, ma'am."

The silence stretched out between them. Finally Mrs. Gilmore sighed in disappointment and gave her head a shake, dislodging another curl from where it had been pinned up on her head. "Well…thank you for seeing me home. Until our paths cross again, then." A mischievous spark worked its way back into her eyes. "Next Wednesday at the Mercantile, perhaps."

"Perhaps, ma'am. Take care now." Luke tipped his hat and walked down the steps.

"Bring me that shirt!" she called after him, just before she closed the door.

Grinning, Luke let his long legs and the downward slant of the street propel him back towards the center of town. After about a dozen strides his mind shifted from his recent captivating companion to the work that lay ahead of him. He'd check in with his deputy and send him out to do a swift patrol of the streets, while he took the time to write up the facts of this morning's call out to the Turner's.

Luke spied a man climbing the road opposite him. He didn't recognize him, and figured him a traveler finding his way to the boarding house. The man had on an unremarkable weathered brown suit and a bowler hat that covered his head, making it hard to distinguish his features. Nothing about him stood out at all. It was almost as if he'd gone to some effort to make sure nothing would cause him to stand out from the scenery.

When he came abreast of him, Luke tried to catch his eye and nod a friendly greeting, but the stranger looked off to the side, seemingly studying the grass and weeds growing there.

That in itself wasn't unusual. Through the years Luke had discovered that many folks grew nervous around someone wearing a badge and did their best to avoid eye contact, whether they had done anything to fear or not. It was no surprise that this gentleman, unfamiliar with him and their town, might wish to keep to himself.

Luke took another half-dozen steps, each slower than the one before, until his lawman's sensitivity forced him to stop. He turned to look back to where the nondescript man had now disappeared. His gut was telling him that there was something wrong. Although all signs pointed to the man merely being a visitor and heading to the boarding house because he needed someplace to stay for the night, something about the way he'd tried so hard to blend in made Luke suspicious. He turned and put real effort into hurrying back up the hill. If he was wrong and she was safe, he'd let her laugh at him all she wanted.

_As long as she was safe…_

He drew close to the boarding house and scanned it for anything amiss. The stranger wasn't visible and everything was quiet. But still, foreboding pounded through Luke's chest. His feet barely touched the steps leading to the front porch.

Normally he'd knock at the door and wait to be admitted. But not today. Not with his ingrained sense of danger telling him so clearly that something was horribly wrong. He paused for a split second to muzzle his fears and focus his thoughts. Then he grasped the door handle, squeezing it carefully, and opened the door silently.

"Sir, you are drunk," he heard Lorelai say with disgust.

"Come on, darlin', give us a kiss. Show me a taste of what I'm payin' my money for, eh?"

Luke no longer tried to hide his actions. He burst through the parlor and grabbed the man's shoulders from behind, breaking the grip he'd had around Lorelai's waist. Gladly he slammed him back against the wall.

"Are you all right?" Luke tried to look over at her while continuing to glare at the stranger. He shoved him back against the wall once more, appreciating the solid thunk the man's head made against the plaster. "Did he hurt you?"

"No. I'm…I'm fine." She was breathing hard and her hands nervously fluttered up to her throat. "He's…He's drunk. He thought…I think he thought this was Patty's."

Luke's fingers pressed deeper into the stranger's shoulders. He tried not to gag at the smell of cheap whiskey rising up from the man's clothing. Hot anger, something he'd tried to control all of his life, poured into every bit of him. He had no doubt he could have torn this man apart, if he'd dared to hurt Lorelai.

Sensing this, the drunk cringed a bit.

"Lorelai? Good Lord, what's happened?" Sookie ran into the room, looking horrified.

"See?" the drunk blustered. "There's two of 'em. Plenty for both of us – Ow!" he exclaimed, as Luke made his head meet the wall once more.

"Momma? Why is the door standing wide open? Are you - Oh!" Schoolbooks clattered to floor as Miss Rory Gilmore arrived home and beheld the frightening sight in her front room.

"There's a comely lass!" the drunk leered, too inebriated to know when to stop. "How old are you, darlin'? Fifteen? Sixteen? Old enough to give consent, I'd wager!"

Luke leaned into him, putting his weight into it. "You say one more word and I'm taking your head off, are we clear?" he promised, making his words as intimidating as possible.

The menace in Luke's words sunk into the drunk's head. He gulped and nodded, blinking nervously.

Lorelai ran over to her daughter, throwing her arms about her and shielding her from the alarming sight of the stranger in their home.

Forcing himself away from his emotions and back into his training, Luke pulled back and jerked the man away from the wall, keeping a death-grip on his neck. He marched him towards the still-open door, making him pause when they reached the mother and daughter huddled there.

"You will apologize to Mrs. Gilmore and her daughter for the terror you have brought into their home." Luke gave him a shake for added emphasis and to show his displeasure.

Fear seemed to have sobered the man up a degree or two. "My deepest apologies," the man hiccupped. "It appears my directions were faulty."

Lorelai's arms clutched Rory to her even tighter. She turned her back to him, using her body to further guard her daughter.

Luke practically threw the man down the steps. He lockstepped him to the road and gave him a shove towards town. "Get yourself away from here! Go find someplace to sober up. If I ever catch you within sight of this house again, I promise you'll rot in my jail cell, or worse. You understand me?"

"Yes sir." The man teetered, trying to find his footing. "My apologies again. To the genteel ladies, too." He started his shaky walk down the hill, veering from one side of the street to the other.

Luke watched him stagger away, still huffing from his repressed anger. Finally, with one more cleansing breath, he turned and went back into the house.

When Luke stepped back inside he found that Sookie had joined Lorelai in her efforts to reassure Rory. All three stood together, their arms around each other, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"Oh, Luke!" Sookie looked up and saw him. "Thank the good Lord you hadn't left yet."

He glanced at Lorelai, who slightly shook her head at him, meaning for him not to worry Sookie more by telling the whole truth about the events.

Rory broke away from the two hovering women and approached him. "Thank you so much, Sheriff! Thank you for being here and keeping us safe."

"Glad to be of service," he mumbled to the earnest young lady standing before him. With a jolt he realized just how much she was going to look like her mother when she was grown. And judging by the height the girl had already attained, that day was going to be coming very soon.

"Sookie, why don't you take Rory into the kitchen and ply her with something to settle her nerves? In fact, I'm sure we could all use something," Lorelai urged.

"Of course! Come here, Kitten," Sookie said, wrapping her arm lovingly around Rory's shoulder.

For a moment neither Luke nor Lorelai spoke, waiting for Sookie and Rory to be out of hearing range.

"You're sure you're all right?" His voice came out all gruff with concern.

"I'm fine," she whispered, not sounding at all like herself.

He didn't remember thinking that he should walk up to her, but somehow he had. His hands, also working on their own, settled gently down onto her shoulders, moving in a way that could have been a caress. "You're trembling," he noted. "He didn't – You're sure he didn't –"

"I'm fine," she insisted again, keeping her voice low, just between them. "He was trying to kiss me, as I'm sure you saw. Luckily he seemed too drunk to be truly a threat."

"And luckily I came back."

"Luckily." She tilted her head, smiling warily. "Why did you come back?"

He paused for a moment, wondering how to explain it to her. "My mother always said I had some sort of sixth sense about people. She said I could always tell if someone was hiding something, or if they were pretending to be something they weren't." He frowned as he felt another sharp tremor pass through her shoulders. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Fine, thank you." She shook off his hands and moved a step away, folding her arms across her chest. "I do thank you for your vigilance."

Now that he could see she was indeed unharmed, his fear tipped over into irritation. "I think this goes to show why I've said for years you need to have someone here with you."

Her eyes rolled in exasperation. They'd had this conversation many a day. "I _do_ have someone here with me."

"Who? Sookie?"

"Yes, Sookie for one."

He snorted at the idea of _that_ protector. "I'd feel better about that if she didn't have an infant in one arm and a frying pan at the end of the other. And no offense to Sookie, but we both know that she'd more likely hit herself with the frying pan than the person posing the threat!"

Lorelai huffed but knew better than to refute him because what he'd said was fair about her injury-prone cook. "Usually Jackson's here," she tried to claim.

"Not true." Luke stood his ground. "Usually he's at their place working, or peddling his crops, or finding a day's labor at a neighboring farm. Tell the truth, when was the last time Jackson spent the day here, helping you?"

Instead of arguing she once again switched her logic. "There's always Kirk."

"Kirk!" Luke didn't even try to hide his scoff. "Not that he's a valid option in any case, but where is he then?"

She looked down at the point of her shoe, shuffling it against the carpet. "I didn't have any chores for him today. He went into town to see if he could find somebody else willing to take him on for the day." Her arms went to her hips and she looked at him stormily, already knowing she was losing. "And before you ask, no, Michel is not here today either. He went to Denver to hear the famed Enrico Caruso sing at the opera house there."

"And _even_ if they were! Even if they _were_…" Luke made himself take a breath, feeling the muscle in his jaw tensing with frustration. "You've got a half-wit and a fancy Frenchman here to supposedly protect you. Which means you've actually got nobody!"

"You know I run a boarding house here. Just like my aunt did for many, many years. I depend upon strangers coming to my house for my livelihood. Aunt Mia taught me caution and discretion. I _am _careful about who I allow to stay here!"

"But yet you let him in! A staggering drunk and you let him in!"

Lorelai flinched. "I didn't – I didn't let him in."

"Then how'd he get in your parlor?"

She sighed, obviously not wanting to admit it. "He opened the door. He walked in."

"_He opened the door!"_ Luke threw up his hands. "You mean to say you didn't even have the door _locked_?"

She was trying to look confident and failing miserably. "Rory was on her way home."

He felt like the top of his head was ready to fly off. "_Rory_ could walk around to the back. _Rory_ should have a key to her own door!"

Lorelai squeezed her eyes shut and looked to be silently counting to ten. "I don't want to fight with you," she finally said. "What I want to do is find a way to thank you for coming to my rescue, which I admit, I needed today." She forced a smile. "Why don't you come back and eat supper with us?"

The unexpected invitation threw some cold water over his crossness. "With…you?" His shoulder motioned towards the communal dining table visible in the next room, where the boarders would soon congregate.

"No." She smiled more sweetly. "Back in the kitchen. Rory and I usually eat our meal back there, after the boarders finish. Please come join us. Mr. Medina will be with us tonight, as well. Join us and it will be like a party!"

Every bit of irritation came flooding back. "Mr. Medina? The schoolmaster?"

"Yes." She nodded happily. "He's been ever so good about tutoring Rory. You know how desperately she wants to get her teaching certificate next year, and he's been helping her with mathematics. If you were at the table I could talk to you, since the topics he and Rory discuss normally fly right over my head!"

"Because of course I wouldn't be expected to keep up with the esteemed schoolmaster," Luke complained heatedly, taking offense.

"You mistake my meaning." Lorelai looked grim. "I merely meant that it would be a relief to me to have someone else at the table who wasn't trying to find the square root of a sum."

Luke dug deep for some manners. "Thank you, but no. I've already spent too much time away from the sheriff's office today," he said curtly, turning to leave.

Lorelai followed him to the door. "You don't like him, do you?"

"Who?"

"Mr. Medina."

"I…" Luke floundered. He raised his hand to his head, and only then discovered that in all of the uproar over the interloper he'd never removed his hat. "Mr. Medina's…a decent man. I'm sure he's a wonderful teacher. He's just not my…cup of tea, I guess you could say."

He turned to the door, but Lorelai interrupted once again. "Do you know what I would like?"

Luke sighed, resigned to hearing her out, even after finding out she was eating supper with the smug schoolmaster. "What?" he asked.

She balled up her fists and seemed to take a breath of courage. "I would like to go horseback riding."

"I'm sorry, what?" He shook his head, thinking that somehow he'd misheard.

"I would like to go horseback riding," she repeated firmly. For a moment she rose up on her toes, breathing in some strength that was apparently available a few inches above her head, before landing back down on her feet. "I believe that you own several horses, do you not?"

He could only stare at her, trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe he wasn't clever enough to sit at a table with the brilliant Max Medina after all. "Yes. Yes, I have horses," he finally confirmed, which was a fact she already knew.

She was nodding now. "You have horses, and I…" She trailed off, but set her shoulders and finished with renewed resolve. "I would like to go riding."

Several long seconds stretched out between them while they stared at one another. A pretty rosy flush colored over Mrs. Gilmore's cheeks.

"Sheriff," she finally muttered. "I have given you an opening big enough to drive a buckboard through. If you don't take it, then I will know that I have totally misunderstood the situation. I will be embarrassed, but I will live, and I will promise to leave you alone forever after."

From somewhere deep in his past, words swirled into his head. _Take a chance, Luke. It's right there, Luke. Just reach out and grab it! _This time he was determined to heed them.

"Mrs. Gilmore," he began, and was immensely relieved that his voice didn't crack, "would you like to go horseback riding with me sometime?"

He would have had to be blind to miss the relief that passed over her face, too. "I'd be very happy to accept your kind invitation, Sheriff. Would next Wednesday morning be a good time?"

"That should work out," he agreed faintly. "Barring any confused sheep, that should work out fine."

"Excellent!" She looked extremely pleased and prettier than ever, having gotten her way. "I'll look forward to it."

Still not sure what had just transpired, Luke opened the door. "I should get back to my duties. I'm afraid Deputy Forester will have a posse out looking for me soon if I don't."

"Thank you." Lorelai looked at him softly. "For everything."

"My pleasure, ma'am." He moved through the door, out onto the porch. "You take care now."

She smiled once more and closed the door.

"And lock this door!" He shouted out the reminder.

He heard the lock shoot home. Smiling, he headed down the street, not completely sure about what had just happened, but nonetheless convinced that his life was about to change for the better.

* * *

The stranger looked at the handkerchief he'd pulled away from his head. The bleeding had stopped. He was fortunate he hadn't received worse.

He straightened his suit jacket and tie before pushing through the swinging doors into Miss Patty's Saloon. He raised his arm to the stringbean fellow behind the bar, the one who'd been playing the piano the last time he'd been in the premises, an hour or so earlier. "Bring me a nip of your best brandy, would you, my good man?" Then he settled himself at a table, pulling out a notebook he kept handy in his jacket pocket.

The buxom Patty herself brought the drink over to him. "So tell me, Handsome, are you going to actually drink this one? Or are you going to use it for cologne, the way you did with that rotgut whiskey you ordered before?"

"Ah, this is meant to be savored," he explained to Patty, taking a pleasurable sip. "This is a reward for what has turned out to be a very good day. A very good day indeed."

"Has it now?" Patty rested her hand upon his shoulder. "Maybe we could find something to make it even better."

"Maybe we could at that, darlin'," he said, winking at her suggestion. "Give me a minute to finish writing up my findings, here, and then let's discuss my options."

"Just give me a sign," she promised, sashaying away to check on some of the other bar patrons.

"Oh, and tell me where the telegraph office is." He gave Patty another confident smile. "Someone else is waiting to hear my good news."

* * *

_Be sure to join us again for the continuing saga of the Gilmore Girls in the Old West!_


	2. A Stranger in Town

_Slow down_, Lorelai Gilmore sternly reminded herself. For several steps she managed a ladylike, sedate pace. But then the promise of the gorgeous spring day mixed with the exciting anticipation of a horseback ride and her feet again sped over the dirt-crusted planks serving as Star-Crossed's sidewalk. _Sorry, Mother_, she thought cheerfully, remembering how hard her mother had tried to crush the tomboy tendencies out of her. _But I'm enjoying everything this day has to offer, whether you'd approve or not._

She knew she was early, but she just couldn't wait at home anymore. She needed to go; she needed to do. Pacing back and forth in front of the boarding house had only increased her anxieties. She hoped that her premature arrival wouldn't completely unnerve the sheriff. She knew him well enough to recognize that the man liked his plans. This would be something of a test today, to see if he was willing to bend enough to accept some spontaneity into his life.

Lorelai pulled open the heavy door to the Sheriff's office. Deputy Dean Forester was tipped back in the chair behind the desk, his feet up, looking as if he owned the place. His feet came down and he jumped up as soon as he saw her standing there.

"Morning, ma'am." He was flustered, but polite.

"It_ is _a good morning, isn't it Deputy?" Lorelai just couldn't keep the cheery words from bubbling out. She wanted everyone to be as happy as she was today. "Is the sheriff here?"

"No, ma'am." Dean looked at her curiously. "He's over at the stables." His eyes swiftly calculated the different pieces of her attire. "And I guess I know now why he's over there," he added, with a small, sly smile.

"Thank you," Lorelai tried to say primly, but the blazing smile on her lips refused to be locked away. It was probably completely obvious to the young deputy how thrilled she was about today's outing, but right now she didn't care. Let the town gossip. She'd banked up 16 years of model behavior. Surely she deserved a withdrawal of one day's worth of fun. She nodded goodbye to Dean and dashed once more down the street.

For just a moment she hesitated in front of the livery stable. It was not someplace the women of the town visited, unless necessitated by emergency. The blacksmith's anvil next door may have been taken over by a very competent female going by the nickname of Gypsy, but the domain inside the large barn remained populated by men and boys.

Lorelai looked around for a stableman, or someone else available to take in a message to Luke. But then the scent of horse and straw and the slightly fermented odor of damp oats brought back memories of a childhood spent in barns such as this one. Once more at ease, she took in a deep breath and confidently stepped into the shadowed space.

She saw him at once, his back to her as he affectionately stroked the neck of a white-spotted black filly.

"I think she likes you," she said, startling him.

Luke whirled around and his equine companion gave a little snort of displeasure as their moment was interrupted. "I thought I was to come and get you," he said, sounding confused. And possibly miffed.

Lorelai shrugged easily. "I was ready, so I thought I'd save you the trouble."

"It was no trouble," he grumbled.

Different responses tumbled through Lorelai's head. She took time to look around the stables, letting her eyes grow used to the dim light, and giving herself time to consider the nature of the man standing before her. Slowly she moved closer to him and the horse, not wanting to alarm either of them. "Don't worry," she finally said encouragingly. "I suspect we'll get better at this."

The displeased look on his face faded away, gradually replaced by a grudging grin. Her breath caught in her throat from observing his handsome smile and she remembered why she had been so determined to do this.

"I suspect we will at that," he agreed.

"Who's this?" Lorelai asked, putting her fingers out flat for the horse to sniff.

"This is Desdemona," Luke said, pride in his voice. He patted the horse's neck again. "Since I normally ride her brother, Cletus, she doesn't get out for exercise as much. She's looking forward to today."

"As am I," Lorelai said, following his lead and patting Desdemona's neck. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said formally. She pulled a couple of sugar cubes out of her pocket and offered them to the horse.

"That'll get you on her good side. She'll do anything for the sweet stuff," Luke revealed.

"Something else we have in common then." Lorelai flashed him a smile, while trying not to shiver at the rough tongue cleaning off her palm. "Don't tell Sookie who raided the sugar bowl this morning."

"Your secret's safe with me," he promised. Then he shifted his feet, looking uneasy once again. He pointed at Desdemona's back. "Uh, I tried to find a sidesaddle, but –"

"No problem," Lorelai assured him. She stepped back, stood with her legs astride, and pulled a handful of material at each hip, showing him that she'd cleverly put a seam down the center of her old skirt, rendering it into a modest riding outfit. Well, the billowing split skirt would allow her to keep her modesty while riding, anyway. Although from the shocked look on his face, it was still a revolutionary solution. "I never really liked riding sidesaddle," she added, hoping to move past her fashion choice.

He looked away from her altered skirt, turning back to the horse. "I guessed at the stirrups, at the length, because you're…"

"I'm tall," Lorelai said flatly, having heard a variation of that all her life._ You're so very pretty my dear, but my, aren't you so very tall? She _moved over to stand beside him and the horse, her good mood lessened by a percentage point or two.

"There's nothing wrong with being tall," Luke disputed. His voice turned wry and his face deliberately lost expression. "That just means you can reach everything in the back of the far cupboard. That is truly a reason to be proud."

Lorelai whipped her head around to glare at him, but saw the sparkle in his eye instead and realized he was teasing her.

"Yes! That is exactly why I'm handy to have around!" she playfully insisted, going along with his insightful comment. She was reminded once more why she thought this just might work out between them.

Luke smiled shyly and inclined his head between her foot and the stirrup. "Do you want me to –" Before he could get the whole offer out, Lorelai had swung herself up into the saddle. "I guess not," he observed sardonically. "Guess you do know how to ride."

"Sheriff!" She pretended to take offense. "Did you doubt me?"

Wisely he didn't respond to that. "Try to stand up," he urged instead. "Let me check the stirrups."

"They seem fine," Lorelai commented, her bottom hovering a few inches off the saddle. She looked over at him just in time to see him quickly bring his guilty eyes back to her face. She grinned to herself, giving Desdemona a friendly pat. One more example to add into the running tally of why she and the sheriff needed to get to know each other better. True, she didn't wish to be stared at by men in the street, but it was nice to know that this particular man found her appearance as pleasing as she found his to be.

Luke grasped Desdemona's bridle and led her down the center of the stable to where Cletus was tied, saddled and ready to ride.

Before he let go, he looked at her closely once more. "You're sure you can handle her?"

Lorelai concentrated on not rolling her eyes. "I'm sure," she said placatingly.

He still looked at her suspiciously. "How long's it been since you've been on a horse?"

She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of that answer. "I hear it's one of those skills you never truly forget," she offered instead.

Reluctantly he gave up control of the reins to her. "Just promise to tell me if it's too much. If you're too uncomfortable, or you get tired, tell me. I'll take you home right away."

_After all the trouble I went through to finally get you to ask me?_ Lorelai thought, crankily. _My legs'll fall off before I admit I can't do this! _But she only gave him a nod and urged Desdemona out of the stable, stopping at the street to wait for him.

Cletus gave her a no-nonsense glare when he pulled alongside. "Thought we'd ride down towards the river," Luke said. Meanwhile, Cletus rippled his bottom lip, seeming to sneer at her, _If you can make it that far, City Girl._

"That sounds lovely," Lorelai replied politely to Luke. She gave Cletus a dirty look.

They didn't talk while the horses walked the length of the town. Once the last building was behind them she waited for him to say something, but he kept silent. She tipped her face up to the sun, letting her borrowed gaucho hat slip off her head to hang by its cord around her neck, mostly covering the braid dangling down the center of her back. The warmth of the spring sunshine brought back all of the joyful anticipation of this excursion. If he didn't want to talk, that was fine. She could talk enough for both of them.

She hurried Desdemona's steps so that she was abreast of him. "So I guess there were no inquisitive sheep this morning?"

He looked perplexed. "What?"

"The herd of sheep wanting to go out and see the world last Wednesday?"

He chuckled. "No, all accounted for today, as far as I know. No sightseeing steers, either."

Her spirits soared at his attempt to match her wordplay. She wanted to keep their discussion lighthearted. But yet, there was something troubling her, something she might as well voice, rather than let worry spoil any part of the day.

"And the…the…person…That is, the intruder who was in my house. What of him? Have you spotted him since?" She tried to ask it bravely, as if it really was of no worry to her. But her hands grasped the reins tightly and Desdemona glanced apprehensively back at her.

"He's gone," Luke said brusquely, as if he wanted the matter done.

"Are you…How can you be sure?" she had to ask.

"It's my job," he said curtly.

"To know where every inhabitant is at all times?" she challenged.

"The ones I don't trust? You bet I do."

She believed him. But yet, she had to _know_. "And you're absolutely sure?"

He glanced over at her, his eyes sweeping over her face. He sighed and his jaw lost some of the rigidity he'd been keeping in place as she questioned him. "He's gone," he said again, but willing to explain this time. "I watched him. I watched him leave Patty's the next day. I followed him to the train. Watched him get on the 9:20, heading east. He didn't come back. I promise you, he's gone. You don't need to worry about him anymore."

"Oh, I'm not worried," Lorelai tried to bluster. "I'm just – I'm glad he's gone, is all."

"Mm-hmm," Luke murmured, obviously not buying her act of indifference.

"How long can you be away from the sheriff business today?" she asked, a little bit further down the road.

"Since I let my deputy have both Saturday and Sunday off to preen around in front of the young ladies he'd like to impress, that leaves me free and clear today. Unless somebody robs the Saving & Loan, or kidnaps Mr. Doose, I'm off duty."

"I'm curious, Sheriff. Would you really rush to free the delightful Mr. Doose from his captors?"

Luke snorted a laugh. "I have to say, it would prove mighty tempting to just let the kidnappers keep him. Probably be best if I'm never called upon to make that choice."

Lorelai smiled, glad she could amuse him. "You know, you might grow to regret your honesty as the day progresses. Now when you tire of me, you can't use the excuse of pressing business to be rid of me."

"It's a beautiful day, a nice ride, enjoyable company." Luke gave her a lazy grin. "Why would I want to cut that short?"

She shook her head at him sorrowfully. "That might just show that you don't know me very well."

"Oh, I think I know all I need to about you," he said lightly, but meaningfully at the same time. He leaned back in the saddle a little and seemed to fully relax. "How about you? When do I need to have you home?"

The thrill that shot through her at hearing him say those few words was ridiculous. "You know I like to be home when Rory gets there. Other than that, I'm free as a bird today."

His eyebrows arched slightly. "No errands today? No marketing to do?"

"Not today." She looked over at the side of the road, wondering how far she could dare to push him. "I guess we won't have to rely on coincidence today."

"Huh. An enjoyable riding companion _and_ a day without Mr. Doose." He wasn't trying to hide his smile. "Guess this _is_ turning out to be a really good day."

They continued their progress down the road, to the line of cottonwood trees that delineated where the river cut through the bare landscape. The trees were just beginning to leaf out, making a vibrating green fringe against the clear blue sky. The river was fat with the spring run-off, leaping and splashing over rocks that would be left high and dry during the dusty summer months. It was hard to believe that the stream dancing by them today would be nothing more than trickle in August.

Luke dismounted and tied Cletus to a branch, his eyes following the river current.

Lorelai wanted to do the same, but something had changed. It was almost as if the horse had grown several feet during the ride out from town. She nervously glanced down at the ground from her elevated height, her mouth dry. It felt like she'd never gotten off a horse before in her life. She started to panic, knowing she needed to do something quickly before Luke noticed her predicament. She screwed up her courage and grasped the horn of the saddle, but couldn't bring herself to do anything else.

By now Luke was moving towards her. He looked confused again. "OK?" he asked.

Lorelai closed her eyes for a moment, hating this. She despised asking for help. "Could you assist me, please?"

"Oh, sure. Sorry." He hurriedly came to stand beside her, reaching for Desdemona's reins. He obviously thought she wanted him to hold the horse. Little did he know that it was she who needed the holding. The thought alone made her blush.

"You see, the ground seems to have gotten further away during our ride, and possibly…To be truthful, maybe it's been longer than I let on since I've been riding…In fact, it has been many years, you see…and although I'm tall, the horse is taller…" Her babbling did nothing to clear up the situation for him. She cut off her words and took a breath. "Could you help me down, please?"

She'd expected him to act shy or flustered, but apparently being sheriff had prepared him to act without personal embarrassment in such times of need. "Stand up again in the stirrups," he instructed her, moving in closer. "Look over there, at the mountains. Don't look down. Now, swing this leg over –" His hand reached around and tapped at her far hip – "and now I've got you," he said, grasping her just below her waist and guiding her to the ground. "All right now?"

"Yes, thank you," she said properly, settling her split skirt back in place. The roiling feelings within her that had erupted at his firm touch she settled back into place too. Maybe she'd get those out and think about them back in the privacy of her room, someday. "With any luck I'll get better at that as the day progresses," she promised him.

"Well, if not, I'm here to lend a hand," Luke offered, and she couldn't be sure if he was taunting her or not. He tied Desdemona to another branch and then they both walked down closer to the water flowing by.

The sun glinting off the rushing water soon mesmerized Lorelai. Her memory made her believe she could smell seaweed and salt water. She could hear waves crashing on a faraway beach.

"What are you thinking about?" Luke's voice cut through her imagination. "You seem very far away right now."

For a moment she almost told him, but she managed to hold her tongue and the impulse passed, as it always did. "I'm wondering if I dare pull off my borrowed boots and go wading. It looks so inviting."

"Your boots are borrowed?"

She liked that about him so much. She liked that he'd latch onto and comment upon the least obvious part of her statement. That was probably why he such a good sheriff, that ability he had to pick apart what people told him.

"Yes, they belong to Mr. Girard. The hat too," she added, plucking at the cord around her neck. "How sad is it that my part-time worker always has the proper clothes to wear and I do not?"

Luke looked equally fascinated and repelled. "Your feet fit his boots?"

"Instead of saying that my feet are ridiculously big, let us instead imagine that Michel's feet are freakishly tiny for a man, shall we?" Luke chuckled at that, and although Lorelai was happy she could amuse him, she was beginning to wish it wasn't always at her expense. "So what are the chances I could get you to look aside long enough for me to peel off my stockings?"

He looked smug. "You might want to stick your hand in the water first."

She regarded him distrustfully, but she walked as close to the stream as she safely could, and squatted to put her hand into the current. She snatched it back as if the water had burned it. "Cold as ice!" she sputtered, leaping up and shaking the drops off of it.

"Should be." Luke pointed up at the snowcapped peaks. "That's where it's coming from."

"You might have warned me," she pouted.

"I did," he insisted. "That's why I didn't let you stick your ridiculously big feet in it first."

She laughed, still glad to have his teasing. "You'd think it would warm up a tad by the time it gets down here to us."

"We'll be pleased to have that coolness when July comes around. Too bad there's not a way to store it."

"Like an ice house," Lorelai remarked, her thoughts returning to her youth again.

Luke motioned towards several flat, large rocks overlooking a quiet spot where the river became a temporary pond. They made their way over and sat, watching the breeze ripple over the water.

Lorelai turned her gaze from the sparkling water to the mountains and back again, but it wasn't really the scenery she was studying. It was Luke's measure she was contemplating. She could almost feel the calmness and the strength and the goodness pouring out of the man beside her. Truthfully, today wasn't just a test for him, to see if he could put up with her silliness. Today was a test for her, too.

She took a deeper breath than what was normally allowed, because going riding was a good excuse to loosen her corset laces. She put both hands over her knees, squeezing hard for courage. And then she made the conscious decision to let him into the long-forgotten part of her life.

"This is still so different to me out here. I grew up in Connecticut." She attempted a coquettish smile, hoping to cover up her nerves. "Connecticut's one of those really small states back East, you know. Between New York and Rhode Island."

"I know which one's Connecticut," he half-growled, the deep timbre of his voice making one of those shivers pass through her middle again. "I always got good marks in geography."

"I'm sure you did," Lorelai said agreeably. She rushed on with a nod, wanting now to explain it to him. "Everything was so green there. Green and usually damp. Water was everywhere. Some days the air was so heavy it felt like you needed to eat it. The ocean was at most a half-day away." She paused, waiting for the sudden, nearly overwhelming homesickness to pass. "I miss it," she admitted quietly.

Luke turned to her with unabashed interest. "You've been to the ocean? I can't imagine what that's like." He shook his head in wonder. "Tell me about it."

She tried hard to come up with the proper words to describe the majesty of it. "You couldn't really think about how huge it was. You only looked far enough to spot the ships on the horizon. Or down to where the bridge led back into town. Or over to where Grandmother's house was on the cove. You divided it up into parcels, so it was manageable and not so overwhelming."

He watched her. "You do miss it," he stated.

"I do." She took another one of the pauses to swallow down the memories. "The feel of the sand sinking away from under my toes. The salt spray whipping into my face, making me feel so alive. Although you do not want to know what that spray did to my hair," she said self-consciously.

"Have you been on a boat?" he asked eagerly.

"Oh, yes. Many times."

"A sailboat?" He was leaning forward now, towards her, anxious to hear her response.

"Yes," she said, slowly nodding. Once more she was far, far away.

"Do _you _know how to sail?"

Lorelai's eyes sparkled. "Yes." She leaned towards him too, ducking her head before imparting her secret. "Don't tell my mother. One of my friends would wait until we were out of sight of shore, then he'd let me take over. I imagine that's what it feels like to fly."

Luke looked at her in admiration. "I always thought that was one thing I'd really like to try my hand at someday. Growing up here, landlocked, I couldn't imagine a more thrilling adventure when I was a boy, than being on the high seas somewhere."

"Maybe you'll get your chance someday."

"Maybe." He gave her another one of those sweet, shy looks that seemed so at odds with the star pinned to his flannel shirt. "See, I figure everyone only has so many chances in life, and for me – well, I guess I'd rather save mine up for something more important. For something that might last longer, if I'm lucky."

She hardly dared believe what the underlying meaning in his words seemed to suggest. "Maybe you could have both," she pointed out, wanting to be encouraging.

"That would seem to be tempting providence, ma'am, asking for too much."

As much as his previous words had heartened her, the _ma'am_ seemed to splash the cold river water smack in her face.

"Seems to me you surely deserve both,_ Lucas_," she said brazenly.

He grimaced and she sighed. The man was just so reserved. "You really want me to keep calling you Sheriff Danes?" Then she nearly choked, because he gave her _that _handsome smile again.

"No, I'd like for you to call me Luke. Lucas makes me think my mother is after me with a switch."

"Luke, then." The simple syllable dripped sweetly off of her tongue. "And I trust that you know my Christian name, do you not?"

"I do," he allowed, but guardedly.

Her eyebrows rose at his tone. "But you don't wish to call me by it?"

He shifted uneasily. "It seems…overly familiar."

"Luke." She put his name to use immediately. "There's only God and the horses here to hear you say it, and in any case, I've given you permission."

"I know, but –" He shook his head. Before he could look away she saw a slight flush spread over this week's cleanly shaved cheeks.

"What is so terrible about my name?" she demanded. "Did you used to court some disreputable girl also called Lorelai?"

"Your name sounds like something that should be written on the page of a fairy tale," he haltingly explained, knowing he had no choice. "I'm used to names that are solid and firm. Like Martha. Or Dorcas. Or – "

"Or Luke," she pointed out.

"Yes." He nodded emphatically. "Your name is the opposite of that. It's wispy. Like that salt spray off the ocean you were talking about. It sounds like something my deputy would whisper into the ear of one of the young ladies he's always trying to romance."

The admission made her smile. "I'm named after my grandmother," she said, leaning her elbows back on the rock behind her, settling in for a spell of storytelling. "She was the strongest woman I've ever known. She ran a business and watched over everyone in the family long after her husband died. I gave Rory her name too, because I knew right from the start that my baby girl was going to need some strength and courage to get through life." She grinned warmly. "But you're more correct than you know about the fairy tale. In German they spell it differently, but the lorelei is a beautiful maiden who casts a spell over sailors with her song, and they end up crashing their ships onto the rocks."

"So I'm right to be wary, then." But he seemed to be at ease. "I appreciate you telling me all of that. Your name's beautiful. I can't deny that." He paused briefly. "Lorelai."

She wasn't sure if her name was beautiful or not, but the sound of him saying it certainly was. "There now. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No ma'am," he said, deliberately trying to bait her.

"Whatever pleases you, _Lucas_."

"Truce." He jumped up, laughing, and held out his hand to help her up. "How about we walk down along the water for a spell?"

The walk was a pretty one, what with the stream babbling beside them, new grass and prairie flowers flourishing, and a most attentive, handsome man at her side. He offered his arm at every unevenness in the landscape and grasped her hand to make sure she kept her footing when they had to step across the river rocks. Lorelai was most disappointed when they circled back around to where the horses were waiting on them and there was no longer any reason for her to keep hold of him.

"What would you like to do now? Are you ready to head back? Or would you like to ride out further?"

Lorelai shaded her eyes and looked towards the land stretching out south of them. "Could we ride out to the Belleville's farm? Jackson's there today, and I haven't been out to see the place since last fall."

"Sure," Luke nodded. "If we ride straight across, it shouldn't take too long at all."

"Perfect." Lorelai was grateful she was able to land gracefully up in Desdemona's saddle, ready to continue their ride.

They rode as the bird flies across the open prairie, dodging small rock outcroppings and low bushes of sagebrush. After nearly ten minutes of travel, the proud new Belleville barn could just be spotted in the distance.

Lorelai let Desdemona calmly walk towards their destination for another couple of minutes, but then the glory of the spring sunshine and the lure of her recalled childhood memories proved too strong a temptation.

"Bet I get there first!" she dared him, mischief making her eyes sparkle. She dug in her heels, leaned over Desdemona's neck and clicked her tongue. The horse took off, as thrilled as Lorelai was to be running free in the fresh air.

Soon the thundering sound of Cletus' hoofs caught up to them. Luke leaned over and snatched the reins from her, drawing Desdemona to a stop.

He looked blazing mad. He swallowed hard a few times, while the horses danced skittishly around each other, settling down after their run. Finally he looked directly at her. "If you want to try and break your pretty neck, you will not do it on my horse, do you hear me? What in damnation did you think you were doing, riding pell-mell across prairie dog holes, with underbrush just waiting to trip you up? What would you have done if Des went down and threw you?"

Lorelai was still too buoyed up from the gallop to feel much remorse for her actions. She decided to employ one of his own tricks.

"You think my neck is pretty?" she asked.

Luke drew in a sharp breath. He squeezed his eyes closed and then rubbed a hand over them for good measure. When he finally opened them he seemed to have found an ounce or two of patience.

"I think the answer to that is probably fairly obvious." He sighed and shook his head. "Let's just see if we can get through the day with you still in one piece. Can I trust you with the reins or should I lead you there behind me, to make sure you arrive safely?"

"I'll be good," she promised. "Boring, but good. Sane, sensible, boring ol' Mrs. Gilmore."

"Why don't I believe that?" Luke muttered, tossing the reins back to her.

They rode into the barnyard. Jackson saw them from where he was toiling in a large garden and gave a shout to greet them.

Luke tied Cletus to the hitching post and came to help her down.

"I am sorry." Tentatively she put her hand on his arm before he could walk away with Desdemona. "You're right, I wasn't thinking. It was just so thrilling to be out here like this, away from town and my everyday chores. I didn't think that my foolish actions could end with Desdemona lame, or worse. Do you believe me?"

She could see he did, and she could tell that whatever residual anger he was harboring also fled. He nodded, ducking his chin towards the ground, and somehow he also managed to draw closer to her. "I admit I love the horse. But it was you I was worried about." Abruptly he turned away, tugging Desdemona over to join her brother at the rail.

"Welcome to the farm!" Jackson shouted, striding up to them. He shook Luke's hand. "Go ahead and take off their saddles and turn them into the pasture, if you want," he offered.

"Thanks, but I doubt we'll be here that long," Luke replied.

"Actually…" When he turned to her, Lorelai pointed over to where Jackson's buckboard was visible, next to the barn. "I asked Jackson to transport some food out here for us."

She could see him doing the calculations in his head, figuring it all out. Figuring _her _out. "Did you now?" he commented lightly.

"Yes. I thought a picnic might be nice." She hurried over to the wagon. "Jackson, will you join us?"

"No, I've already had my dinner. I should get back to work while the weather holds."

"The place looks great," Luke complimented him. "You've done so much work since the last time I was by here. What are you planning for the next step?"

Jackson motioned over to a spot on a little rise, opposite the barn. "I'd like to get a house up, hopefully before winter sets in. Sookie and I'd love to get settled out here for good." He shook his head. "I don't like leaving my equipment or animals out here while we're still living in town. No offense to you and the Star-Crossed constabulary, Sheriff!"

"None taken," Luke agreed. "I'm sure you're anxious to get into your own home. I still remember some carpentry skills my father taught me. Let me know when you're ready to put up the walls. I'll come out and give you a hand."

"I'd be in your debt. Here, let's get the horses settled."

She could hear Luke and Jackson continue to discuss crops and town gossip while she pulled a basket and a blanket from the bottom of the wagon. She unfurled the blanket on a comfortable patch of grass, in the shade from the barn, and set the basket on it. She was just reaching back into the wagon for a jug of lemonade when Luke appeared next to her.

"I'll get it." He hauled it out as if it weighed nothing and carried it over to their waiting picnic. Instead of sitting on the blanket, he looked at his hands. "Suppose I'd best wash up first."

"Yes, definitely!" Lorelai laughed. They walked over to the pump. When she leaned over to put her hands under the water, her hair blew out around her face, and that was the first she realized that her wild gallop had been the undoing of her braid.

"Drat!" she muttered, almost under her breath. "I must look a sight!" Quickly she tried to finger-comb her curls back, trying to repair the fashionable exterior she had hoped to present to him.

"Don't!" His hands shot out and held hers, stopping her. "At least, don't do it because you think you have to, just because I'm here. It – it suits you. The curls." He dropped his hands and nodded charmingly at her. "They're as pretty as your neck, if you don't mind me saying so, ma'am."

She laughed, pleased both at the compliment and at his now-humorous use of the ma'am. "All right, but I'm still going to need to tie this wildness back somehow. Otherwise the wind will whip it into my face the whole time I'm trying to eat." She patted at the pockets in her skirt, wondering if she'd be lucky enough to find a ribbon anywhere on her.

"I may have a solution. Uh, turn around?" With just a minor hesitation, she did, and then nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his rough hands turn gentle on either side of her face. Carefully he drew her hair back, holding it in a bunch with one hand against her neck. Then he tied it with the blue bandana that had been around his own neck. "I think that will do," he said proudly, surveying his handiwork.

Carefully she fingered the cloth knotted around her curls. "Yes, that seems quite serviceable. Thank you." She was pleased she could speak so calmly when her heart was still skipping every other beat.

Lorelai led the way over to the picnic, once they'd splashed the worst of the dirt off of their hands. She knelt beside the basket and began to remove the wrapped items inside.

Luke settled himself down, too. "You cooked?" he asked. His voice was casual, but she didn't miss the apprehension on his face.

She blew out a breath of exasperation. "Honestly. You mistake the vinegar bottle for sugar syrup just once when the minister comes to call –"

"Twice," Luke muttered, staring down at the plaid pattern in the blanket.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Fine. Twice. It was still an honest mistake." She flounced her shoulders. "Rest assured, Sookie cooked. I packed."

Luke grinned, and reached forward to take the ham sandwich she was offering him. "And a fine packing job it is, too." He grinned a little bigger. "Ma'am."

She laughed and shook her head at him while continuing to pull out enough food to feed most of the county.

"Sookie is an amazing cook," Luke declared, savoring another bite of the sandwich.

"She certainly is," Lorelai agreed, munching away as well.

"What will you do, once she and Jackson move permanently out here?"

"I don't know," Lorelai admitted. She sat down the sandwich which suddenly didn't taste quite as good. "I want them to realize their dream, of course. But I'll miss her so much, and not just because she's one of the main reasons my rooms are nearly always let out. It's one of those things I'll deal with when it happens. I can't think about it now."

"But you need to have a plan," Luke protested, frowning at her lack of foresight.

"Once they get their house started, I'll think about it seriously," Lorelai promised. "Then I won't be able to deny that it's truly going to happen."

Luke didn't press her any further and they ate in companionable silence. Finally Lorelai nudged a tin full of apple pie towards him, along with a knife and fork, urging him to help himself to the sweetness there.

"I heard you mention your father to Jackson. Was he a carpenter?"

"No, just a farmer, like everyone else was at the time. And when you farm, you need to know how to fix everything. You need to know how to build and fix and repair, because there's no one else to do it for you."

"But building a house, that's quite a challenge. That's something you've done?"

"Oh, sure. 'Round here, everyone used to pitch in. Neighbors helping neighbors, you know? It's been a few years, but I'm sure I could still frame up a wall if need be."

Lorelai picked up a crumbled piece of pie crust and popped it in her mouth. "I'm surprised you don't have your own house in town."

"No need." Luke shrugged. "The town grants me the living quarters over the office. No reason for me to have much else."

Lorelai chewed at her lips, trying to figure out how to ask what was on her mind as delicately as possible. "What I mean is, I'm surprised you don't have a home. With a family. I'm surprised some industrious and wily female didn't snatch you up long ago."

She saw a cloud pass over his features before he lowered his face. "I was going to," he said, his voice in that low-growl tone she'd heard before. "Once. A long time ago."

Her heart was thudding and she already knew she'd made a mistake in asking, but in for a penny, in for a pound. "What happened?" she asked, as gently as she could.

"Her name was Rachel." He took a deep breath, and something about how he did it reminded her of the way she needed to call up her own courage before telling him the stories about her past, down at the river. He looked at her levelly. "She died," he said simply.

"Oh. Oh, Luke." She felt battered, as if Desdemona had indeed thrown her to the ground, and she pressed a hand to her chest. "I am so sorry. I think I remember now, Mia telling me something about that, but I'd completely forgotten it. Please forgive me. I would have never brought it up if I'd known."

"I know," he reassured her kindly. "And it's all right. It seems like it happened a lifetime ago now. I've grieved over it for more years than she was alive. I think it may be finally time to move past the sadness. She…she wouldn't have wanted this life for me, I know that."

Lorelai still felt shaken, but she smiled at him tremulously. "Tell me about her," she encouraged.

"She was something, that's for sure." He was sitting cross-legged on the blanket, and now he dangled his hands over his knees, looking off in the distance as he remembered. "Her hair was curly, too, but a different type of curly than yours. The little curls sprang up all around the edge of her face, and she hated them. Her hair was sort of a red-gold color, kind of like when the sun goes down at night."

"She sounds lovely."

"She was." Luke looked up quickly, with a soft smile. "I knew her my whole life, growing up. She smiled all the time. She was friendly to everyone. She would have loved you. You would have made her laugh, all the time."

"That's nice, to think we would have been friends," Lorelai ventured, although she wasn't sure they would have been at all.

"Rachel was so different from everybody else in school," Luke continued, the long held-in words pouring out of him in a rush. "She read history books like other people read penny dreadfuls. She loved to study maps. I think she had the stage routes and train schedules all memorized by the time she was eight."

"I think I can deduce how that excellent score you received in geography was attained."

Luke chuckled. "I could hold my own with schoolwork, but it probably did help cement it in place, talking to Rachel. She was so aware that there was something more out in the world, outside of Star-Crossed. That's what she wanted more than anything, to be a traveler, to visit all of the places she read about in those books. She wanted to travel on all of those routes she'd traced with her finger over the maps."

"But she fell in love with you," Lorelai surmised, sensing how the story ended.

Luke shook his head. "No, we'd been sure of ourselves from little on. We'd always assumed we'd grow up and get married and go off and see the world together. It was a childhood dream for us both. Then we got older, old enough to make the dream be the truth, but you know how the reality of growing up can change things."

"Oh, yes," Lorelai sighed.

"Rachel had it all planned out, how we'd get married here and then set off for San Francisco. She figured we'd work there for a while, saving up, until we could afford to book passage to somewhere else. She had a map with lines criss-crossing everywhere, showing the trips we'd take, and where we'd stop and settle for a spell."

"Very ambitious. Very brave, too."

"And very impractical." Luke's mouth pursed up, as if the words tasted bitter. "By then I was working for Sheriff Carlisle, learning to be one of his deputies. He'd taken me on, taught me how to follow my instincts. Sent me off to Denver to go through a law enforcement academy. I felt I owed it to him, to the town, to stay here and put those skills to work. But Rachel…Rachel thought I was betraying her."

"She was disappointed," Lorelai suggested neutrally.

"More than that," Luke admitted. "She didn't understand why I couldn't take those skills and find a job elsewhere, as we'd planned. She was anxious to go, to put our plans into actions. She was tired of sitting at home, staring at a map." Idly he traced along the edge of the pie tin with his thumb. "My parents were getting older and needed more help. My sister met up with some sweet-talker going through town with a traveling company and took off with him. Sheriff Carlisle wanted me to take on more responsibilities for him. And Rachel couldn't understand that it was time to put down roots here, and forget all of the childish dreams we'd once had."

Lorelai just nodded, letting him tell her at his own pace.

"She wasn't ready to give it up, though. She refused to marry me if we weren't going to leave town. We argued bitterly. We were both pretty stubborn when pressed. And then, just when things seemed like they couldn't get any worse between us, the yellow fever hit the town that summer. Rachel came down with it. At first she didn't hardly seem sick. She was up and around, taking care of her little sister. And then the next day…she was gone."

"Oh, Luke," Lorelai whispered. She could see the pain that still lingered in him from Rachel's death. She leaned forward, taking his hand in hers and squeezing tightly in sympathy. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He took several deep breaths and then looked at her, squeezing her hand back. "I know you are. And I know you understand. That's one of the reasons I don't mind telling you, because I know you've been through it yourself."

Lorelai wasn't exactly sure what he was getting at, but she didn't want to lose this special connection they were tentatively forging. "You mean because of Aunt Mia," she guessed.

A small frown appeared. "I mean because you lost your husband. You know what it's like to lose that one person you thought you'd be with for the rest of your life."

Her chest hollowed out and collapsed as all the air in her lungs disappeared. Her brain, usually so facile at fabricating intricate explanations, simply shut down. She blinked and gasped, while he continued to watch her, his face showing less camaraderie and more speculation as each second passed.

"That was…long ago," she finally managed to falter. She sat back on her heels, pulling her hand away from his. "We were…very young. And…and foolish. Sometimes it seems like I - I made it all up."

He nodded, the blue in his eyes seeming even truer than usual as he attempted to comfort her. He picked up her hand again, this time letting his thumb rub over the narrow gold band she'd always worn on her ring finger. "I'm learning you just need to let go of the sorrow on your own time. Don't rush it, Lorelai. But if you ever do want to talk about him, to let it go, I'm here for you."

Once again she pulled her hand away. She pressed it up against her neck, where she could feel the blood pounding underneath her fingertips. She forced herself to respond politely, as she'd been taught. "Thank you. You are…most kind."

They sat for a few quiet minutes. Lorelai attempted to pull her shattered nerves back together. Eventually she began to pick up their picnic items and get them organized back in the basket. The routine of that task helped to bring her back to herself.

"What did you do after Rachel passed?" she asked.

"Just kept on," he muttered, shaking his head. "Kept to the routine. Kept busy. Tried to keep away from the temptation of forgetting in all in drink. Tried to help people around town, if they needed it. My parents both started to fail, a few years later. They ended up passing just three months apart."

"I'm sorry," she said again, hating how inadequate that was.

He shrugged. "It wasn't unexpected, but it still hurts to lose your parents. How about you? Are your parents still living?"

"I don't know," Lorelai replied, thinking of nothing other than how much this good man had had to suffer.

He looked shocked. "You don't _know_?"

Once again her chest hollowed out and she scrambled. "They…disapproved of my marriage. They said…if I went through with it, that I was no longer to be considered as their daughter. I've had no contact with them since Rory was born. They too are most stubborn."

Luke was shaking his head disapprovingly. "But after all of these years they still wish to have no contact? Surely they'd want to embrace their granddaughter! How can they be so cold and distant? They've never even _tried_ to communicate with you?"

"They're very proud. Very stern New Englanders," she attempted to explain.

"Well, I expect they know where you are, if they want to change. But they sound most cold-hearted, to turn their backs on you, and Rory, and Mia as well. Someday they'll realize what a needless loss they've suffered for their pride."

"Thank you for that sentiment." Lorelai reached for something else to pack, but saw that everything was already stowed inside the basket. "Do you think we should be heading back?" She didn't really want to cut their outing short, but being back on the horses might be better than the intimacy of the picnic blanket conversation.

"We probably should," he agreed, with a hint of what she hoped was regret.

They put the items needing to get hauled back into town in the buckboard. Luke saddled up the horses while Lorelai walked over to talk to Jackson. Luke came to the edge of the field, Lorelai climbed up on Desdemona once more, and with a farewell to Jackson they began the ride back to the road leading to Star-Crossed.

She was right in her theory that being back on the horses would put on stop to their more serious talk. They chatted as they rode, and Luke told her a few stories from his boyhood, and pointed out where he'd had some adventures in trying to keep their area law-abiding. But still, she had plenty of time to think.

Lorelai thought back on the sixteen years she'd been living in Star-Crossed. For the first dozen or so she'd been so out of her element that she'd focused only on learning to quell her natural tendencies. She'd learned to hobble her lips so that nothing too shocking slipped out of them. She'd schooled herself to ignore her playful impulses. Instead she'd learned how to work, and work hard. She'd learn how to be a mother, although that part was easy. She'd grown a family of choice around her, with Mia, and Sookie, and then Jackson and baby Davey, with Rory always there, right in the center of her heart.

And then Mia had left her, just when she felt like she had it all perfected.

Her heart broke. But then she discovered she wasn't alone. Friends gathered around her. Mia's friends. Her friends. And she was no longer a helpless young girl. Mia had taught her well, and she was able to step into the role of boarding house proprietress without a hitch.

She still remembered the day of Mia's funeral, standing in the front room to receive guests after the service. She was tired and bereft. And then, someone came to stand in front of her. Strong, capable hands enfolded hers.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, ma'am. Mrs. Holloway was one of the best women this town's ever had."

She looked up and was instantly arrested by a pair of trustworthy blue eyes residing in the handsomest face she'd ever seen.

_Luke._

Of course she knew him; knew he was the sheriff. She'd heard Mia gush praise of him for years, but somehow she'd never really noticed him before. Maybe she hadn't permitted herself to notice him. In any case, the day of Mia's funeral was the day she woke up to the fact that she was still a relatively young woman and there were still men around that made her glad of that fact.

Slowly she began to change. She allowed herself to become more like the Lorelai she used to be. She was still the best mother she could be to Rory and she ran the boarding house in the same meticulous fashion that Mia had. But she started becoming more a part of the town. Laughing and joking more, and volunteering for town events.

And then, even more slowly, she began a campaign to get the sheriff to notice her. And it had worked, culminating in their day today. But somehow, in all of the plans and hopes she'd spun she'd never thought to adjust for his curiosity about her past. It didn't register that of course he'd want to know about her background; her history before she arrived in Star-Crossed.

How much did she dare to tell him? If things continued to progress the way she hoped, what should she do? Tell him the truth, and hope he grew to love her enough to understand? Or could she live with herself if she instead kept true to her revisionist history?

The one thing she knew without question was that she liked the man. She liked him a lot. She liked his droll sense of humor and his steadfastness. She admired his honesty and his compassion. And to be honest with herself, she liked that he was taller than she was. She was already fond of his striking face, whether it was shaven or covered with whiskers. To be even more perfectly honest, she'd been completely smitten with him for quite some time.

In the midst of her soul-searching, Luke had dropped back to ride beside her. Startled, she looked up and saw that they were nearing the town.

"You've been quiet," he remarked.

"You'd best take note of that," she quipped. "It doesn't happen very often."

He smiled. "I've really enjoyed today, Lorelai."

"Good. I have too."

"I don't take time away from my duties very often, but maybe I should. If I forget, and don't ask you to ride out with me again, you go ahead and remind me, all right?"

"I can do that," she agreed, nodding seriously.

"And I know you mentioned something about some summer events planned for the town. If you wish for me to escort you to any of those, I'd be most pleased."

She nearly swallowed her tongue, so shocked was she that he was taking the initiative. "That would make me very happy, Luke."

"Good." He nodded, looking satisfied. "Of course, that depends on whether or not you get those new ribbons put on your bonnet. I'm not squiring you around in some dowdy old hat."

That made her laugh so hard she nearly lost her saddle. Desdemona looked back to check on her and Cletus seemed to sigh in resignation.

"I promise to be a credit to you and your office, Sheriff."

"Then it's settled."

By now they were riding through the middle of town. Babette Dell looked up from her chair in front of Patty's and called out a hello. Then she jumped up and ran back inside as fast as her plump little legs could carry her. Lorelai knew that meant that everyone in town would know she'd been out riding with the sheriff before the evening came. But that was permissible. Soon everyone would know that he was calling on her, if he began taking her to all of the town's events.

They passed by the Sheriff's Office. Deputy Forester was leaning against the post in front. He waved lazily at Luke, letting him know that things were calm, and then he tipped his hat to Lorelai.

They began the climb up the street to the boarding house. Lorelai was sad their outing was coming to a close, but she was thrilled to think that perhaps their future was there just in front of them, waiting to begin.

Luke dismounted and tied the horses to the hitching post before hurrying over to help her down. Secretly, Lorelai was pretty sure she could handle that on her own now, but she wasn't going to give up one last chance to be in his arms, even if it was sort of fibbing on her part.

"You know," Luke said, swinging her down to the ground, "the Founder's Day picnic is only a week or so hence. Truth be told, I'd rather not wait for the summer concerts to start before I get another chance to spend time with you. Would you permit me to take you to that, too?"

Lorelai put her hands on his forearms and looked up into his face, smiling broadly. "I love Founder's Day, Luke. And I would love to share the day with you."

He continued to stand perfectly still, his mouth opening briefly and then closing swiftly, as if some thought was flitting through his head that he wasn't sure how to voice. His eyes continued to study her, as if she was a map he needed to remember for a geography test.

"Oh, your bandana!" Her hands reached for the knotted blue cloth, realizing he was probably too shy to ask for it back.

"No, don't!" His hands gently caught hers, bringing them back down between them. "It suits you, Lorelai. Just like your curls." He attempted a smile, but the moment between them was suddenly too fraught with awareness to allow a smile. Swallowing hard, he raised one hand, letting a finger carefully trace over a curl dangling over her shoulder. He met her eyes while he put his hand up to her face, and tenderly ran his knuckles over her cheek. His voice turned husky. "It suits you very well."

_You suit me very well_, Lorelai thought. She became conscious that she was hovering up on her toes in her borrowed boots, trying to get just a little bit closer to him, because with the way her heart was pounding and the way he was so focused on her lips, she was almost certain she was going to get kissed, even if they were in plain sight on a public street.

The moment passed when Luke seemed to become aware of where they were. He gave his head a clearing shake and took a step back from her. Lorelai took a breath and tried to get something other than disappointment to show on her face.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lorelai then noticed someone on the boarding house porch. A man in a stylish suit. There was something about the nonchalant way he stood up that reminded her of Luke's deputy that morning when he seemed all puffed up, as if he owned the place. This man seemed to be of the same bent. He began to stroll down the walk to where they were, and the closer he came, the more a vague sort of recollection rolled around in her brain.

"Nice riding outfit you've got on there, Miss," he called out to her cheekily. "You know your mother would make you take it off, though!"

She felt Luke come to attention beside her, ready to leap to her defense if needed. She turned slowly, feeling her insides turn to ice as all of the pieces fell into place.

"Christopher," she breathed out in disbelief. She said his name almost as if it was sacred. Or maybe she said it more like the start of an incantation to break a spell.

The one thing she knew for certain was that life as she'd grown to know it was over.


	3. The Past Returns

**Author's Notes:** I thought Eledgy had a great idea tucked away in her review of the last chapter. She said: _Loved the final scene...the almost kiss...right up until Christopher shows up. Grrr. Put me in the "damn, he's not really dead?" club... _That got me to thinking. Maybe we _should_ have a club? Because _I'm_ certainly not thrilled he's alive, and from a lot of the comments others of you have made, I don't think you are, either. So how about a club? The "Damn He's Not Really Dead" Club. Eledgy, you get the first official membership. Who else want to sign up? The dues are quite reasonable.

**Further chapters/Speed of updates:** I promise I will concentrate on writing upcoming chapters as fast as I can, but these things just take time to percolate through my brain and eventually to get shaped into a final product, so please understand if there's a lag between updates. I do have most of the story plotted out, but unfortunately there's this thing called 'real life' that occasionally takes over.

Thanks for reading and responding to this truly AU version of the show!

* * *

_And now, join us again for the next episode of Star-Crossed, Colorado, where our heroine has just returned from a romantic outing with the Sheriff, only to find a stranger lurking on the front porch of the boarding house..._

* * *

"Christopher," Lorelai breathed out, the shock of seeing him nearly turning her to stone. After all, a ghost had just materialized on her front porch and was strolling down the walk towards her. Shock was putting it mildly.

Still at her side, Luke was doing his best to fathom what was going on. "You know him?" he asked, his voice deliberately calm, his eyes never leaving the dandy approaching them.

With effort, she shook off as much stunned surprise as she could. "Yes," she confirmed faintly. "He's…from long ago. A friend from long ago."

By now he was close enough to give her that delightful devilish smile, the one that used to make her heart flip over in happiness. Now all it did was fill her with dread.

"Lor," he choked out, his eyes looking misty. He stopped just shy of her, shaking his head. "Heavens above, look at you, Lorelai Victoria Gilmore. I can't believe I've found you again." And with that he stepped closer, enfolding her in a tight embrace. "Lorelai. My God. Lor!" His voice cut off emotionally.

Lorelai patted his back, but cautiously. She kept her head pulled away at an angle, avoiding an even more familiar hug. She could feel the distrust arising out of Luke and she pulled away from Christopher's arms as quickly as possible.

"Luke, this is…This is Christopher Hayden. He's a… an old friend. From Connecticut." She tried to make herself meet the searching eyes of the Sheriff, but she just couldn't do it. "Chris, this is Sheriff Luke Danes."

"_Sheriff_!" Christopher smiled at Luke as if they already understood each other. He rocked back on his heels, starting to laugh. "I guess our girl Lorelai here hasn't changed her ways much over the years. She always was a naughty thing, but being brought home by the police is definitely an escalation from her old pranks." Christopher thrust his hand out at Luke. "Happy to meet you, Sheriff. Always nice to have a friend in law enforcement, I've found!"

As far as Lorelai could tell, Luke purposely didn't respond to anything Christopher had said. His eyes never stopped sizing him up as they shook hands. "What brings you to Colorado?" he asked pleasantly enough, but Lorelai recognized the steely resolve underpinning the simple question.

"Lor, of course," Christopher said, putting his hand affectionately on her shoulder. "And a little business on the side," he shrugged, adding a grin. "It's always nice when you can combine things you're expected to do with things you _want_ to do."

"Will you be visiting long?" Luke asked next, his voice still giving off the impression that he was asking out of politeness, although Lorelai knew better.

"Well, that depends on what kind of reception my _old friend _here gives me, I expect!" Chris chuckled and squeezed her shoulder.

Lorelai stepped to the side, breaking his grasp on her, and shot Luke a beseeching look.

"Excuse us, Mr. Hayden. I need to speak to Mrs. Gilmore now," Luke informed him, his tone still that of firm politeness.

"Mrs. Gilmore!" Chris guffawed. "I say, _that's_ rich!" He chuckled a bit more and then continued to stand there, beaming at each of them in turn.

"If you wouldn't mind," Luke requested, some curtness entering his voice. He gestured with his head, indicating that Christopher needed to move away.

"You're serious?" The amusement gradually left his face and he looked taken aback. At last he took several steps away, albeit grudgingly.

Luke watched each foot of distance put between them, his veneer of politeness fading further with each one. Finally he turned to Lorelai, grasped her elbow gently, and escorted her another few yards away. When he stopped them he placed himself in front of her, making sure Mr. Hayden's view was blocked.

"Tell me what's going on here," he quietly requested, those penetrating blue eyes of his now trained on her. "Do you want him here? Do you trust him? If not, give me a sign and I'll convince him to leave, because so far you don't seem overly joyful to see him." He continued to search her face. "Which it seems you might be, if he is indeed such a good old friend and all."

With all her heart Lorelai wished that they were still somewhere out on the prairie, riding the horses and exchanging pleasantries. Why in the world did she make them return to town so quickly? Why did the past have to choose today of all days to return?

She gulped down a sigh. "No, Luke, it's fine, really. It's just been a shock, to see him again after so many years." She could tell that Luke was still skeptical and she forced a smile. "I appreciate your concern, but truly, there is no need for it."

Luke nodded, but still appeared doubtful. "Know this, Lorelai. If you decide otherwise at any time, you only need to find a way to send word my way. I promise I'll drop everything and come on the run."

Her smile bloomed easily this time. "I do know that," she assured him, lightly touching his arm again. "But everything is fine. It's really a happy occurrence, although unexpected." She hoped her brave words would convince the both of them.

And then, although for entirely different reasons, they both faced Christopher with grim expressions.

"Did you already see to a room?" Lorelai asked as they approached him, deciding that putting on her business hat would be the easiest way to deal with her startling visitor for the time being.

"Yes, although that French fellow you employ claimed he couldn't help me with my luggage, due to some sort of arm injury. It didn't seem to bother him later, when dealing with a tea tray, though." Christopher gave her an exaggerated wide-eyed look, and in spite of herself, Lorelai smiled at him.

"It's true, Mr. Girard's arm infirmity does tend to come and go."

"Mostly when there's work to be done," Luke muttered. Reluctantly he tipped his hat at Christopher. "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Hayden. I'm positive our paths will cross again, no matter how briefly you're in town." Although his words were civilly offered, they seemed to contain a thinly-veiled threat.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Sheriff," Chris said cheerfully, ignoring the undercurrent, reaching out to shake his hand again in farewell.

After one more piercing glance Lorelai's way, Luke mounted Cletus and rode away, leading Desdemona behind him.

The clip-clop of the horses' hooves gradually faded away, and Lorelai found the courage to look at the man in front of her. After 16 years apart, he might as well have been a stranger.

"Lor." He put his hands on his hips and looked her up and down, the rakish smile she well-remembered lighting up his face. "I can't believe I finally found your hiding place."

"Chris –"

"To think that the girl who couldn't keep a secret to save her life was able to hide herself away for this many years!"

"Do not say these things here!" Lorelai glanced around nervously, checking for neighbors, wondering who was listening from their front parlor windows.

"You don't even seem happy to see me," he teased her, pretending to be petulant.

"Please, let's go inside."

"Come on now. You _are_ happy to see me, right?"

"Christopher! Get in the house. Now!" Her low growl of irritation would have even passed muster with the Sheriff. When he laughed and all but sauntered up to the boarding house door it made her even madder. It was all she could do to keep from slamming the door shut behind them.

Once in private he instantly he made to embrace her again. She pushed him off and stood aside, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, where her windless lungs were struggling for breath. "Don't," she managed to testily instruct him, even as she fought to pull in some air.

He stepped back, putting his hands on his hips while he studied her. "A fellow could get the notion you don't want me here, Lor."

She refused to look at him. "What _are _you doing here, Chris?"

He laughed at that, and it wasn't his charming laugh. It was his superior, Hayden-born chuckle of privilege. "Really, Lorelai? You need to ask? What the devil do you _think_ I'm doing here?"

Tears and despair begged to be allowed to escape, but she made a valiant effort and held them back. She'd learned many lessons on how to hide emotions in 16 years. She raised her chin and finally met his eyes. "Please. Don't do this. Please don't ruin this life I've made. If nothing else, try to remember our friendship and what we once meant to one another. Surely you can find some compassion in your heart for me, can't you?"

His eyes narrowed and his face paled. "Friends?" he tried to sneer, but even the potentially snide comment sounded almost charming coming from his mouth. "Is that what we are, Lor? We're _friends_ now?"

"I hope so," she answered staunchly.

"I didn't know friends ran away and hid themselves for years at a time."

"I had no choice. You know I had no choice."

"No! I don't know that!" he exploded. "I don't know anything at all! That's why I'm here, to finally get some answers after 16 bloody years of _not_ knowing!"

"Hush!" she begged, grabbing his arm. She looked frantically behind her, hoping none of the boarders or Sookie were close by.

They both struggled with their emotions for a minute or two, breathing erratically, staring at each other as if they were indeed strangers. Christopher wiped a hand over his eyes and Lorelai dropped his arm. They stepped apart, both instinctively agreeing to try to conduct themselves more calmly.

"You haven't even asked about things back home," he pointed out gruffly. "Do you not even care to hear about your parents?"

Lorelai's lips shook before she could get them under control. "I care," she admitted, curling her fingers into her palms. She looked down at the floor, not wishing to let him see how much she cared.

"They're well," he told her. "Your father's heart gave him some trouble recently, but your mother fusses over him as much as he permits, and he's fared well under her care. Emily –" here Christopher paused, a wry smile appearing, "—even occasionally admits that the doctor may have something to do with his continued good health."

She blinked hard and swallowed several times. "I'm happy to hear that."

"I am sorry, though, Lor. I hate to tell you." Christopher sighed mightily. "Your grandmother passed away about five years ago."

Lorelai forced herself not to react to that devastating news. "I'm sorry too, but that's not entirely unexpected. I knew there was a chance –" Sudden grief choked off the rest.

"Aw, Lorelai," Christopher said softly. He stepped next to her and rubbed her arm. "She missed you 'til the end."

Lorelai turned her face away, stealthily wiping away a few uncontrollable tears. She nodded, understanding. After a moment she cleared her throat. "My parents, though. They know you are here to find me?"

"No. This is my quest, Lorelai. _I _wanted to find you."

"Well, you've done that." She put away her grief and faced the present. "What now? What happens next, Chris?"

He shook his head at her, amazed that she could be so dull-witted. "I bring you home, of course. You and the girl. We go home to where you both belong."

Lorelai reared her head back in disdain, possibly taking a lesson from Cletus earlier in the day. "The _girl_?" she threw at him scathingly. "That's what you call her?"

Sudden anger flamed across his face. His fingers took control of her arm, yanking her close to him. "What would you prefer I call her?" he hissed, practically in her ear. "_Our daughter_? Is that better? Is that what you want the neighbors to hear?"

Cold fear drenched her, making her wince. Chris saw and quickly let her go, taking a breath to regain their status quo.

"I…I can't very well call her anything else," he explained in a murmur, tugging his jacket back into place. "I don't have any idea what her name is, you know."

Shame burned across her cheeks, and Lorelai wondered how many emotions she could handle in such a short space of time without needing some smelling salts waved under her nose. "Her name is Lorelai. I named her Lorelai. After my grandmother."

Hearing that made him smile a little bit, and then he nodded in approval. "She would have loved that, the tough old bird."

To her surprise, Lorelai found herself smiling too. "Yes, she surely would have loved that." Lorelai shrugged then, wanting to explain further. "We call her Rory though, so as not to confuse the town between us."

"Rory?" Chris looked perplexed. "What kind of bizarre name is Rory?"

"Well…" Lorelai sighed. "I aimed to call her Lorrie, thinking that would be different enough from me, and because you…You know how you've always called me 'Lor,' so I thought…"

"Yes." Christopher was the one now having to swallow hard. "Yes, that was a…a considerate thought, to pass on my nickname for you to her. I very much like that."

Lorelai nodded. "That was my plan, but plans often do not work out when life intervenes. She toddled around, such a bright girl, so inquisitive, so intelligent! But the sound of 'L,' I'm sorry to say, was quite beyond her capabilities of speech for many years. So Rory she christened herself, and Rory she remains to this day."

"Rory," he said faintly, trying it out. "Rory."

"Rory," Lorelai chimed in, smiling at the mere thought of her wonderful girl.

"She's a good girl, then?"

"The best, Chris. The very best."

"Pretty, I'm sure?"

"Extremely."

"And quick-witted, I'd wager!"

Lorelai laughed. "Of course! She hopes to teach school after she finishes her own lessons next year."

At that their brief camaraderie fizzled out. "Well, there's no need of that any longer," Christopher decreed. "Once we get back East she can be a proper lady. Be introduced to society. Marry a bugger worthy of her. She'll have no need of toiling in some schoolhouse shanty, teaching illiterate hayseeds. She'll live the life she was meant to have!"

"We are not going back East with you!" Lorelai immediately argued.

"Of course you are! That's why I'm here! Of course you're coming back with me!"

"No, we're not! We have a good life here, Chris! We're accepted. There is no stigma here for Rory. This is the only place where we can be embraced and she can live normally! Surely you can see that!"

"No, I do not see that!" Christopher refuted heatedly. "I see no need for you to be living out here at all. You're coming home so we can be a family and that's that!"

Rustling petticoats heralded the arrival of old Mrs. Lanahan and put an abrupt stop to their bickering. "Lorelai, dear?" she quavered, poking her head around the dining room wall to see them in the entry way. "Is something amiss?" She fumbled in her pocket for her spectacles and placed them on her nose, taking her time in assessing Christopher. "Who is this young man? Is he being disruptive?"

"No, Mrs. Lanahan, everything's fine!" Lorelai said loudly, because the elderly lady's hearing was as bad as her vision, if not worse.

"Who's this?" Mrs. Lanahan queried, getting almost into Christopher's face.

"Christopher Hayden, ma'am," he replied, copying Lorelai's volume. If there was one thing he knew, it was how to charm the ladies of all ages. He smiled and dipped his head at her.

"Hmpf," she snorted, taking his measure. "Is he bothering you dear?"

"No, ma'am." Lorelai sent Chris a look. "He's from back East!"

Mrs. Lanahan looked at him doubtfully.

"Connecticut!" Chris roared, beaming and nodding his head.

"Land sakes, you don't need to shout, boy. I've heard of Connecticut." She still regarded him suspiciously. "You need to behave yourself if you're staying here. Mrs. Gilmore runs a respectable establishment." Her dubious gaze wandered over to Lorelai and landed on her makeshift riding skirt. "Despite her questionable clothing choices," she added.

Christopher nearly choked, trying to hold back a laugh. Lorelai glared at him.

"Lorelai, I'm going out for my afternoon constitutional," Mrs. Lanahan told Lorelai. Chris quickly opened the door for her. "And you, young man, you behave yourself."

"Yes'm," he instantly agreed, nodding to her as she passed through the opening.

"So you run a respectable establishment, do you?" he asked Lorelai after the old lady had gone outside, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Yes, Chris, I do." Lorelai smiled but it didn't reach her own eyes. "People know they can depend on me and this boarding house. The town needs it, and I need the town. Some of the boarders, like Mrs. Lanahan, have been here for years. I make sure she's comfortable, and I make sure that visitors, such as yourself, have a safe, clean place to stay. And now I need to get into some fresh clothing and help my cook with supper preparations, so I trust you can amuse yourself while I get to work."

He looked at her levelly. "We _are_ going to discuss this Lor, whether you want to or not."

"Of course." But she began backing out of the entry, inching closer to the rest of the house, and farther from him and his serious topics. "Just not now. This is a busy time of day for me, and I have duties to attend to. We'll talk tomorrow, I promise." She gave him one last nod of her head, and then dashed towards the back of the house, where her bedroom promised at least temporary sanctuary.

After she left, Christopher's shoulders slumped. The first phase of their reunion hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd hoped. Lorelai's cool response to his presence was threatening to derail the rosy dream he envisioned for their future. But all was not lost. He knew her weak spots when it came to him. He knew how to charm her. He knew how to be persuasive. Give him a few more days and he could completely turn the situation around. Eventually she'd come to her senses and see that returning to Connecticut and taking her rightful place as Mrs. Hayden would be the best thing for everyone.

For now, Christopher stepped out onto the wide front porch and patted his jacket pockets, looking for a cheroot to smoke. He recalled that Lorelai had never liked the smell, but surely she'd have no reason to complain if he kept to the porch.

Before he could locate a match, he saw a girl, practically a young woman, coming up the walk, studying him with interest. She had a fine carriage, walking straight and tall, despite the heavy armload of books she carried. A gray apron covered her navy-blue school dress, but a tentative smile on her pretty face added much style to her everyday outfit, as did a bright yellow ribbon holding back her thick brown hair.

Christopher dropped the cigar to the floor; his fingers forgetting to hold on while his stunned eyes told him one thing and his brain another. "Lorelai?" he gasped out, staring at the girl.

"Yes," she said shyly, but still smiling politely. "Nobody calls me that, but yes, I'm Lorelai."

His spinning world abruptly righted itself. "You're the girl. You're Lorelai's daughter."

"Yes." She smiled and nodded at him. "I'm Rory. I'm sorry, do I know you?"

He could only shake his head, trying to make it accept the present. "You look so like your mother did, when she was a girl."

Rory lit up at that comment, showing him a face that reminded him even more of the Lorelai he used to know. "You knew my mother when she was young?" she asked in delight.

"Yes. We knew each other well." He gave his head another shake. "Here, let me take some of those," he offered, reaching for her pile of books. "Looks like your teacher is a stern taskmaster, loading you down like this."

"No, I finished most of my assignments at school. These are for fun," she informed him, still looking at him happily. "Are you really from Connecticut? We've never had visitors from back East before!"

"Well, you've got one now." He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and realized he hadn't introduced himself yet. "I'm your –" Abruptly he cut himself off, looking directly into the sweet, trusting face peering at him, and swiftly revised what he was going to say. "I'm Christopher Hayden, from Hartford, Connecticut. And I'm very pleased to meet you, Rory."

"I'm pleased to meet you, too, Mr. Hayden!" She smiled brightly. "Goodness, Momma must be so happy to see you! I can't wait to hear the two of you talk!" Since his arms were now laden with her books, she opened the door and motioned for him to enter. "You are going to stay with us for a visit, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," he agreed. "I've been looking forward to this visit for a very long time."

Rory joyfully led the way to the back of the building and he followed her without thought, ending up in the kitchen, a space where boarders probably normally weren't allowed.

"Are you home, Kitten? Do you want a bite to tide you over before supper?"

"Sookie, have you met Mr. Hayden?" Rory tugged on the cook's apron strings, urging her to turn around.

"Who?" Sookie spun around, a ladle in her hand and her cheeks pink from the steam rising up from the large kettle of beans she'd been cooking. Her pleasant demeanor slipped, seeing a stranger in her kitchen.

"This is Mr. Hayden!" Rory rushed on. "And guess where he's from!" She didn't wait for a reply. "Connecticut! He's from Connecticut! And guess who he knew growing up?"

"No!" Sookie quickly made the connection. "You know Lorelai?"

"I certainly do!" Christopher stated proudly.

"And I see that this one has already turned you into a pack mule with the tons of schoolbooks she lugs home most every day." Sookie approached him, taking several of the books from him and laying them on the kitchen table. He copied her actions, and then she reached out a hand. "I'm Susannah Belleville, the cook for our Lorelai's boarding house. It's a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hayden. Lorelai must be overjoyed to have a visitor from back home."

"Well, that remains to be seen, but I'm hopeful," he replied, shaking Sookie's hand with enthusiasm. It was nice to finally get a warm welcome from someone.

"You know what this means," Rory said, briefly laying her head on Sookie's shoulder. "It means that having Mr. Hayden here might finally persuade Momma to tell us more than a sentence or two about her past."

"Ooh, it might indeed!" Sookie giggled. "No more big mystery! You'll tell us everything, won't you Mr. Hayden?"

Chris could tell from Rory's warm affection with Sookie that the woman might call herself merely the boarding house cook, but in fact she occupied a much larger place in the girls' hearts. He already felt comfortable teasing them. "Now ladies, you know a true gentleman never kisses and tells!"

Rory gasped and Sookie giggled again. "Oh, I can see you being quite the match for Lorelai!"

"A match for me? What are you talking about?" Lorelai came into the kitchen, neatly done up in a green-striped dress. Her hands were above her head, hurriedly fastening a few last pins into her knot of hair. She stopped in surprise, seeing Chris in the kitchen.

He looked at her still-remarkable figure thoroughly, not trying to hide his admiration, until her cheeks burned in annoyance. She crossed her arms angrily over her chest. Then she realized that he was with her daughter and her friend and she looked at him in alarm, worrying about what had already been said.

"Momma!" Rory now rushed to her side. "How excited you must be to have Mr. Hayden here on a visit! Were you trying to keep it a surprise? Did you know he was coming?"

"No. No I did not." Christopher's calm appearance and Rory's excited chatter reassured her that nothing so far had been spilled and she relaxed a small bit. "It was a complete surprise for me as well to see him today."

"I can't wait to talk to you about your experiences!" Rory exclaimed. "I have so many questions about the east coast, and train travel, and oceans, and schools – and well, everything!"

"There will be plenty of time for that," Lorelai said, hoping to break up this gathering quickly. "For now, you should see to your studies, because I know you'll want to be prepared before Mr. Medina arrives for your tutoring. And I've got work to do, right Sookie?"

Sookie looked at Lorelai strangely. "Well, there's always –"

"—more work than we can handle! I know," Lorelai broke in. "Sorry, Christopher, but we really need to dive into supper preparation, I'm afraid."

"Momma, I have a wonderful idea! Why doesn't Mr. Hayden join us for supper tonight with Mr. Medina? I know he'd love a chance to talk to someone who lives elsewhere, too." Rory was so thrilled with her idea that she barely gave Lorelai a chance to respond. "Wouldn't you like that better, Mr. Hayden? To eat back here with us instead of with the rest of the boarders in the dining room?"

"I would indeed, Rory." Christopher winked at her, and then shot a sweetly mischievous glance Lorelai's way. "I'd love to have the chance to sit here and visit with you and your mother."

"It's settled, then!" Still exhilarated, Rory amassed her books and headed towards her room. "Join us at 7, Mr. Hayden! You can tell me _everything_ then!"

Lorelai stepped close to him, under the pretense of escorting him out of the room. "No, you will not," she threatened, keeping her voice low.

"I won't," he promised, stealing a biscuit to eat while he waited for the meal. He stood just outside the kitchen door, watching Lorelai flounce her shoulders at him before heading back to work. "At least not yet," he murmured to himself.

* * *

Since the idea for the impromptu dinner party in the boarding house kitchen had originated with Miss Rory Gilmore, it was fitting that she was the only one actually enjoying the evening. She hung onto Mr. Hayden's every word with intense fascination, totally missing the confused irritation flowing from her teacher, the worried reservation from her mother, and even the smug amusement emanating from Mr. Hayden himself. All she knew was that since Mr. Hayden had been to many places of interest and done so many things she could only dream about, she needed to hear about as many of them as possible before his surprise visit came to an end.

Before she could phrase another question to him, however, her teacher, Mr. Medina, leaned forward, fingering the thin stem on his wineglass with precision. The light from the oil lamps made his thick, carefully brushed dark hair shine. "But what I still fail to understand, Lorelai, is why you would want to downplay your educational success." The social smile on his lips might indicate praise, but the tone of his words clearly showed that he somehow felt wronged. Add in the fact that he had already circled the conversation back to this point three times, and it was obvious he was miffed. "All of these tutoring sessions I've conducted with Rory, all of the evenings I've shared here with you, and yet you never once gave a hint of the extent of your schooling." He sat back, the thin, false smile still visible. "Why would you not tell me about your scholarly ambitions?"

"Not everybody likes to brag," Christopher observed, his arm popping out to reach for the wine decanter. The wine had been his idea to help smooth over the rough edges of the dinner, and so far he was very glad he'd suggested it. He filled up his own glass and motioned towards the schoolmaster's, but Max waved him off irritably. "Now me, I'll flaunt my Princeton ties at any chance. Business deals are often settled on those school loyalties alone. Plus it helps to impress acquaintances occasionally."

"Princeton," Rory murmured dreamily, inadvertently proving his point.

He grinned at the admiring girl at his side. "The Haydens have always gone to Princeton, so I didn't have a choice, truth be told." He looked over at gentleman sitting across the table. "Where did you go to school, Mr. Medina?"

The polite smile disappeared completely. "Alas, my family lacked the resources to send me off for further education. After finishing secondary school here, I've been self-taught. I've found that those who truly wish to further themselves can, with hard work and a proper library."

"Ah," Christopher nodded, not looking at all convinced. "Well, Lorelai here ran circles around me all during our early years in our respective schools. She was always winning one award or another." He smiled at her and sent her a wink. "She started taking it more seriously, though, once it was decided she was going to go to Vassar."

"Why would you not tell me that?" Max nearly exploded.

"Momma, really, that is remarkable," Rory chimed in.

Lorelai sat with her shoulders hunched, looking miserable. "Well it didn't happen, so it's all water under the bridge. No use in discussing it now."

"Her parents didn't approve of the idea of a young lady going to college," Christopher continued. He chuckled, and Lorelai finally looked up and met his eyes. "Your mother, especially."

Sharing the memory whether she wanted to or not, a grin broke across her face. "That is certainly true. My mother wished for me to go to Switzerland, to a finishing school there. She thought that was the only proper higher education needed for a young lady of society. She thought I needed to learn to serve tea with a book balanced on top of my head, not to stuff that same head full of foolish equations and philosophies."

"What changed their minds?" Rory asked, fascinated

"Nothing changed their minds. My grandmother simply decreed I was to go, and that was that." Lorelai grinned even broader at Christopher. "Nobody dared to cross my grandmother."

"Then why didn't you go?" Rory wanted to know. Her mother abruptly bit her lip and looked away. "Oh," Rory breathed out, realization dawning. "You fell in love and got married instead. And then you had…me." The last little word was said so sorrowfully that Lorelai quickly spoke up, before her precious girl could ever think ill of herself and their situation.

"No, my sweet girl, don't ever think that!" Lorelai was emphatic in her denial. "Motherhood has been worth more to me than any dozen diplomas ever could be!" She beamed lovingly at Rory.

"I fail to see why you've needed me to tutor Rory!" Max burst out, still harboring the bee in his bonnet. "It seems to me that you surely have the knowledge to cover her subjects adequately on your own!"

Lorelai sighed. "The point you need to accept is that I didn't go. It didn't happen. Not only did the dream of Vassar not come true, I didn't even finish my schooling. And for what Rory wishes to accomplish, namely to teach here in Colorado, you have the insights and the knowledge to make sure she succeeds. I do not. I'm grateful – Rory and I are both grateful that you are willing to take her under your wing and direct her studies. We are most appreciative of your help."

"Very grateful," Rory echoed. She cast her big blue eyes his way, nodding enthusiastically. "You have all of your years of teaching to draw upon, Mr. Medina. Just hearing about all of your experiences is bound to help me so much, when I have a classroom of my own to manage."

"Well, you're welcome." A tad mollified, Mr. Medina attacked the piece of roast beef on his plate, which had grown cold while he sulked.

"Mr. Hayden, what is it exactly you do, with the help of your impressive Princeton education?" Rory asked, eager to find out more about his life.

Chris looked at her sharply, and grinned delightedly when he saw she full-well meant to tease him. "Rory, it seems to me that you have indeed been taught many lessons by your mother!" Rory preened a bit and even Lorelai looked pleased. "What I do is a bit of this and a bit of that. The Haydens have been fortunate in life. The family has made hundreds of investments over the years, and it's up to the head of the family to make sure those investments flourish and that any new ones continue to provide income. So it's my job to oversee our holdings, and occasionally go out into the world and see things with my own eyes. It's one thing to see numbers on paper, and sometimes quite another to observe poor business practices that are going to eventually derail a company, if they're not discovered and uprooted in time."

Rory nodded seriously, trying to understand, but Lorelai looked stricken.

"Oh, Chris – you're the head of the business now?"

"Yes. I am. For years now."

For the first time since his arrival, Lorelai reached out to him in genuine affection. "Straub is gone? Chris, forgive me. I didn't even think to ask. I'm so, so sorry." His hand was lying on the tabletop, and she rubbed the back of it tenderly.

Their eyes met and he didn't really need to say anything else, but he did, for the sake of the others at the table.

"My father was not a very kind man," he explained to Rory. "To say that he and I had different ideas about life…well, that doesn't begin to do our sad relationship justice. He saw no reason for play, or humor, or anything that didn't add something to the family finances. While I, on the other hand, saw no reason why life couldn't be fun as well. It's something we never reconciled, although I learned to keep my views silent while he was alive." He turned and caught Lorelai's eye again. "That was one of the reasons why your mother and I bonded together. We both found ourselves tied to families that seemed nonsensical compared to our views on life."

"And Francine?" Lorelai whispered, hating to ask.

"My mother thrives," he assured her. He looked at Rory and gave her a confidential nod. "She thrives very well, now that my father is no longer present to boss her around." He looked back at Lorelai. "You wouldn't recognize her, Lor. She's like a different person! Everything brings her joy, but especially Georgia! I swear she lives for that girl!"

"Who's Georgia?" Rory wanted to know.

Chris took a sharp breath, almost as if he suddenly realized what he'd said. He looked directly at Lorelai. "Georgia's my daughter."

Lorelai's eyes opened wide.

"You have a daughter?" Rory asked with interest. "How old is she?"

He carefully wet his lips before replying. "She's 10. Her grandmother is looking after her while I'm on this trip."

"Why isn't she with her mother?" Rory inquired innocently.

"Her mother passed away not long ago." He heard Rory give a little gasp of distress, but he couldn't soothe her right now. He kept Lorelai in his sight. "I married Harold Tinsdale's daughter."

A hoot of laughter broke free from Lorelai's mid-section. Instantly she clamped a hand over her mouth, looking horrified.

"Lorelai, really," Mr. Medina chastised her. "I hardly think laughter is appropriate."

"No, of course not." Lorelai struggled to get the words out, because it was obvious that disbelieving laughter was still trying to fight its way out of her. "Chris, again, my sincere sympathies." A giggle tried to tag onto her sad words. She cleared her throat, shifted in her seat. "I'm so sorry. It's so sad that you've…that she…What a loss for you…and your daughter…" She gave up, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shook. "I'm sorry," she gasped out, between great peals of laughter. "I'm so sorry." She wiped her eyes and tried to look sorrowfully at Christopher, but it didn't work. "I'm sorry, but you _married _Sherry Tinsdale? Skinny-Tinny Sherry? You married her? Chris! You _loathed_ her!"

"Gee, Lor, and she always had such sweet sentiments to express about you," Chris deadpanned.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Again, Lorelai made an effort to bring her wildly inappropriate reaction under control. "Of course, I'm so sorry that she passed away, and that she's left you and your daughter to grieve. I am sorry. It's just –" Lorelai looked at him, confident that at least he would understand. "To me, she's still that little girl, stick-thin with straggly braids, who wouldn't leave us alone. I just can't imagine you having a life with her."

"It wasn't a love match, but both of our fathers pressed it," Chris told her, unsmiling. "I'm sure you _can _imagine that. Sherry and I thought we could make the best of it. The first few years were tolerable. We had Georgia, and that made us a family. Unfortunately that wasn't enough to make us happy."

Lorelai nodded in true sympathy and lowered her eyes.

Rory looked around, unsure of what to say or do to erase her mother's socially unacceptable behavior. "What's your daughter like, Mr. Hayden?"

"She's a bright little thing. Just like you," Christopher said, smiling at her. "She likes school, but mostly just because she gets to see her friends there. Her lessons have little appeal, I'm afraid. The only way I can get her to endure them at all is by threatening to take away her piano if she neglects her schoolwork. She'd rather play the piano than eat, I think!"

"Oh, she sounds like my friend Lane!" Rory perked up. "Lane would do nothing other than play music all day if she could!"

"I tutor her as well," Mr. Medina added in.

"Does she also wish to be a teacher?" Chris wondered.

"No…" Suddenly the other two adults at the table looked wary, and let Rory flounder out an answer on her own. "The Kims are…different. Lane…doesn't go to school. Not school like I do. Her mother thinks our school isn't hard enough, and so Lane takes her lessons at home. And Mr. Medina tutors her."

"Kim?" Chris looked thoughtful. "I'm to meet with a Mr. Kim while I'm here. Frank, I think? Or maybe Francis? He owns some mineral rights on a property I'm interested in. Is that your friend's father?"

Rory shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no. There's no –"

"Now, Rory!" Lorelai broke in. "There's no need to spoil all of the surprises for Mr. Hayden."

Rory ducked her head, masking a smile, and even the proper Mr. Medina cracked a grin.

"So you have a daughter," Lorelai said, after a quiet moment or two, trying to get used to the idea.

"I'm afraid she's rather spoiled," Chris admitted. "She's the apple of my eye, so it's hard for me to deny her anything she wants. I try, but…" A solemn look crossed his face and he grabbed for his wineglass, taking a swift drink. "The one thing she says she wants more than anything—" he looked askance at Lorelai, offering her an evasive shrug, " - is a sister."

At that comment, Lorelai slumped back in her chair. _Now_ she understood why he was here.

* * *

Finally the interminable dinner was done. Chris insisted on walking to the door with Lorelai, to show Mr. Medina out, almost as if he was the host of the evening.

"Max, so good to have met you! You're to be commended, for staying here and educating the youth of this country. You know, that's what makes America great, having at least some education available for all. Best of luck to you." Christopher shook the teacher's hand excessively.

"Yes. Nice meeting you as well," Max's lips barely moved as he forced out the polite lie. "Lorelai? I'll see you again soon?"

"Of course," she nodded, smiling pleasantly.

"Thank you for the fine meal," Max said. "And also for the…interesting conversation." With a look of distaste, he went out the door.

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" Lorelai censured Christopher, but in a cautiously hushed tone, as soon as the door closed.

"Aw, Lor!" Chris laughed. "I couldn't help it! The guy is so pompous! How could I resist? How can you manage to sit down to dinner each week with him? That's the bigger question!"

"May I remind you, he's Rory's teacher!"

"And he's sweet on you!"

"He is not!"

"Of course he is! You know he is!" Chris stopped and looked at her speculatively. "Is that why you started flirting with him, to get him to tutor Rory?"

"What an utterly despicable thing to say! Even for you, Chris, that is low!"

"But is it true?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

He held his tongue and watched her stewing. "He is sweet on you, though," he calmly insisted.

She didn't reply immediately. "I truly didn't realize that until after he started the tutoring. I would have never suggested it, had I been aware."

Chris folded his arms and regarded her in fake sternness. "Doesn't he know?"

"What?" she asked warily, thinking of all the multitude of things Mr. Medina did in fact not know.

"About you and the Sheriff."

Lorelai's spine stiffened. "By which you mean?"

He shook his head, looking amused. "That the Sheriff's sweet on you, too."

She held her tongue.

"And more importantly, that you're sweet on the Sheriff."

She turned away, still refusing to reply to his accusation.

"How long have the two of you been courting?" Chris questioned, keeping his tone light.

Lorelai sighed and rubbed at her forehead. "We're not. We're…friends. Acquaintances. That's all."

Chris snorted. "Lor, anybody with two eyes could see through that fib. I watched you with him out in the street today. Does the good sheriff know the truth about you?"

Whatever resolve and strength that had been keeping Lorelai going throughout her long, emotionally-draining day dissolved away. Her shoulders slumped despondently. "No," she nearly whispered.

He studied her. "You're scared to tell him, aren't you?"

Suddenly she was so exhausted she couldn't even manage the word 'yes.' She barely nodded her head, and then turned to leave.

"Wait!" Chris hurried after her. "We need to talk, Lorelai! We need to get this discussion underway! We need to start planning for our future."

"Not now, Chris. Please, I'm so tired. I can't dredge this all up now. I can't." She rubbed her forehead again. "I've still got the kitchen to clean up."

He could see she was on her last legs by her wan face and listless eyes. "But tomorrow, right? First thing, we're going to set to it and get everything cleared up, right?"

"Of course." She was willing to agree to anything, just to get away from him and their past right now. She couldn't believe that mere hours ago she thought her future looked so rosy, whilst perched up on top of Desdemona.

"All right then. Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight," she bid him, and walked away, wishing desperately that when she awoke in the morning, his visit would turn out to be nothing more than a fevered dream.

* * *

_What sort of secrets remain hidden in Lorelai's past? Is her romance with the Sheriff doomed? Will Mr. Hayden's visit ruin everything? Join us again soon for the next thrilling episode of Star-Crossed, Colorado!_


	4. A Not-So-Good Talk

**Notes:** Apologies that this update is a week later and half the size of what I thought it would be. My RL daughter was in the midst of moving and needed her momma's help. Just like Rory Gilmore, she has a book fetish. Dear God, so many boxes of books. Heavy boxes. Tons of boxes. Now that I've somewhat recovered, I wanted to get the story updated quickly, and I hope that you'll agree that half now is better than waiting another week for me to finish writing the remaining part of the chapter. Thanks again to all of you who are suspending belief and reading this story.

* * *

_Once again it's time to journey to Star-Crossed, Colorado, and see what disorder the sudden appearance of wealthy Connecticut businessman Christopher Hayden has caused our beloved Gilmore girls..._

* * *

Mid-morning of the next day found Lorelai in her still-dowdy bonnet, a basket slung over her arm, preparing to tiptoe out of the kitchen door of the boarding house with as little notice as possible.

"Ah! Christopher!" Her attempted escape was cut short when she nearly tripped over the fellow lounging on the back steps. She caught her balance and then nearly lost it again when she swiftly bent to administer a sharp rap to his arm. "What in the world do you think you're doing, blocking the stairs this way?"

Her peeved smack on his arm merely made him grin. "Where you going, Lorelai?" he asked with a lilt.

"Errands," she announced, trying to maneuver past him.

"I think not." He got up and grasped her arm before she could reach the ground. "I think you're trying to avoid me."

She gave him a look that told him he clearly didn't understand the inner workings of her life. "Don't flatter yourself. I merely need to get to town and pick up necessities for supper. My life revolves around a daily schedule that I must keep, or chaos ensues. Right now I need to be on my way, or the boarders will have to make do with bread and butter sandwiches for their evening meal."

"I've watched you all morning, you know." Christopher kept hold of her arm, escorting her down the few steps to the ground, and then got in front of her, blocking her path. "I watched you serve the breakfast, and then clear away the dishes. I followed you to each room as you replaced the linens. I noted you dusting every room downstairs, lifting up each little piece of bric-a-brac to meticulously clean under each one." His easy smile faded. "I think you've done enough work for now, Lorelai. It's time for that talk you promised me."

"Of course." She tried to brush him off and breeze past him. "Just as soon as I've been to the store, we can –"

"Nope. Now." He pulled the basket from her arm and laid it on the back stoop. "You forget that I know you too well. You forget that I was the boy waiting on the other side of the servant's door for you, waiting to help you make your many escapes on those dull Sunday afternoons."

"I wasn't trying to escape today," she protested sullenly, having been caught.

He did laugh then. "Lor, this is me! Remember? You can't fool me! Now, where do you feel the most comfortable having our discussion?"

Resigned, she looked around the yard while dejectedly removing her bonnet. She tossed the bonnet into the basket, acknowledging that neither item was going to be used immediately. "Over here," she sighed, and led the way to a small triangle of spruce trees surrounding a wooden archway. A bench took up the space between the arch supports.

Christopher put a hand up to finger a vine trailing over the top of the structure, already greening up and sending out new spring tendrils. He stopped abruptly. "Is that…?" He pointed to a carving on the side of the support. "Is that a goat?"

"Yes," Lorelai confirmed, wondering why he thought that was odd.

"What is this?" Chris asked, still looking over the wooden carvings as he took his seat beside her on the bench.

"It's something that Mia's husband made for her when they were first married. He loved to do fancy carvings."

"And who's Mia?"

Lorelai pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Mia Halloway. The kindest soul I've ever met. She showed me more love and mercy than what I probably deserved."

Chris turned towards her on the seat and picked up her hand. "I'm glad you had someone. You can't imagine the nightmares I endured."

Lorelai shrugged, not wanting their discussion to go down that path. She took her hand back and used it to shade her eyes, looking across the lawn at the huge house. "Mia's husband found one of the first veins of silver in this territory, on their claim about 20 miles west of town. Times were flush, and he moved her here, built this magnificent house. They planned to fill it up with children. But unfortunately the silver didn't hold up. Eventually it was just him, working one dwindling vein, which meant that on the day the mine collapsed, he was the only one there to be killed." Lorelai turned back to Chris and looked at him humbly. "Somehow, Mia always made that sound like it was a blessing, that he was the only one to be killed that day. She mourned him, though, every day for the rest of her life."

"Sad tale," Chris noted.

"Yes," Lorelai sighed. "That left her here, alone, with this big, empty house, and no means of income. So she turned it into Halloway House, and started taking in boarders. When I turned up on her doorstep she recognized the same sort of despair around me, I think. She knew just by looking at me that I had no one and no resources. She took me in without question and loved me like a daughter, Chris. She was a saint. A guardian angel."

He took her hand again and this time held it tightly. "I'm glad, Lorelai. Truly, I am."

She nodded slightly and her shoulders relaxed, accepting that he was here and deserved answers to years of questions. "What else do you wish to know?"

He blinked at her several times, apparently surprised at her capitulation. He shifted on the seat, facing forward, leaning out over his knees slightly. "When did _you_ know?" he asked hollowly.

Lorelai cautiously wet her lips. "About the baby, you mean?"

His chest rose and fell. "Yes."

"I think…" She had to pause, to consider exactly what she was going to say. "I think I knew on some instinctual level before you even left. I knew…something was different. You bragged on my love of learning all last night, so you know I read the biology books. Of course I suspected I was with child, but…" Lorelai let that fade away, shaking her head. "I was still such a girl, Chris. I couldn't face it. I couldn't deal with the consequences of what we'd done. You know how much I always loved fairy tales and stories with happy endings. I hoped something magical would happen and I'd simply wake up and still be a maiden. I pretended I didn't know. I created a whole set of subterfuges and deceits to mask what was occurring. I simply denied that there was a baby."

"Oh, Lor." Christopher sounded anguished as he thought about what she'd faced. "No one else suspected?"

"You know what it was like in my house. It was easy for me to stay out of my parent's way. To avoid the servants. I kept to my lessons and didn't get into trouble. I ate my dinner silently and quickly and headed back to my room."

"And Richard and Emily didn't think that was strange?" he broke out, incredulously.

"They thought I was pining over your absence. They thought it was a good thing. They thought it meant I'd be ready to settle down with you when you returned from your continental tour, and give up that hated idea of Vassar."

"So what finally tipped them off?"

"Mother decided I needed new clothes." Lorelai paused painfully, remembering that awful day. "There was no hiding it then."

Christopher bent his head low, cradling his face in his hands. "God, Lor, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She put her hand gently on the back of his head, her fingers smoothing his light brown hair. "I know," she said simply, granting him absolution.

"When I got back…" Chris sat up straight, shaking his head. "I couldn't imagine what had happened. I couldn't find you and couldn't find out anything about where you were. Nobody would talk to me. I hadn't gotten any letters from you in months and I was sick to think you'd thrown me over. I went to your parents, but all they'd say was that they'd sent you off to that awful finishing school after all, and it was for the best; that I just needed to be patient. I went to see your friends; none of them knew a thing. I tracked down that favorite teacher of yours, Mrs. Bryce, hoping maybe she'd heard from you. I waited outside your house and intercepted Rosie on her way to market. I even went to your _grandmother_, Lorelai."

She smiled forlornly. "That was certainly brave."

"Just goes to show you how desperate I was." He sighed and shrugged. "I knew she knew, but she wasn't telling. I knew because she was kind to me. She told me not to give up hope."

"Ah, Gran," Lorelai said wistfully.

"And then I got that note. Finally. Written in your hand, but telling me next to nothing. Just informing me that I had a daughter and that you were going to take her and disappear."

"I thought you had the right to at least know that you had a daughter out in the world."

Chris set his lips in displeasure. "Do you have any inkling what that did to me? How dumbfounded I was? I was already in a panic over you; can you imagine how that piece of news completely did me in? My mind was boggled. I couldn't begin to think of what to do."

"But at least you _knew_," Lorelai insisted.

"You think that was comforting? To know that the girl I loved was trying to find her way in the world on her own with a baby to tend, as well? My baby? God, Lor! I was in hell thinking of it!"

"It was the best I could do," she informed him through stiff lips.

"_Why_ did you run?"

"What choice did I have? They were going to take her from me, Christopher!"

"Of course they were! How else could you be expected to have a life?"

Lorelai jumped to her feet. "This discussion is over," she angrily announced.

"No, it's not!" He jumped up too, grabbing her arm. "You have a daughter, as do I. Don't tell me you wouldn't do anything in your power to make her life better, because I know I would! For once, can't you recognize that your parents were trying to do what was best for you?"

"They simply didn't want to face a scandal."

"Of course they didn't! And they didn't want you to be burdened the rest of your life with whispers and gossip! They were doing the prudent thing!"

"By ripping Rory away from me?"

"She wasn't 'Rory' to them! She was the problem! And they chose to protect you over a baby that was going to do nothing but ruin your life! I'd do the same thing for Georgia! You'd do the same thing for Rory!"

Lorelai took a sharp breath, blasting him with eyes filled with disapproval. "Well, congratulations. Looks like Straub finally got the son he wanted after all."

Chris staggered back as if he'd received a blow, releasing her arm. "That was the cruelest thing you've ever said, Lorelai," he muttered.

She dipped her shoulder at him, knowing it was true, but too angry yet to apologize for it. "I had this perfect, beautiful baby in my arms, Chris. She was my heart. I knew I had to protect her and make a life for her, so that's what I did. If even _you_ can't understand that, well, then I did the right thing, didn't I?"

He stomped off across the grass, turned, and came back, still steaming. He stopped off to the side of her, his arms finally coming to rest across his chest. "I went to Chicago," he said grudgingly.

"What?"

"Chicago." He took a deep breath, which seemed to calm him. "I knew you were in Chicago, from the postmark. I siphoned off some of my school allowance and left Princeton and took a train to Chicago."

"Oh, Chris."

"I was desperate, Lorelai. I didn't know what else to do. Of course, once I got there I had no idea at all how to locate you. It was a fool's mission. And my father was ready to skin me alive once I got back."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I was 16. I just…I just didn't know what else to do."

He threw himself back down on the bench. "What I don't understand is why your parents didn't send a message to me in Paris. I would have come home immediately and we could have been married. Why did they send you off instead of getting me home?"

Lorelai sat down gingerly beside him. "Because I was already so many months gone by the time my mother found me out. Even if you would have caught the fastest steamer home and we were married the same day you arrived, the baby would have appeared just a few months later. Everyone would have known, and the Gilmores didn't want that. Far better to send me away than have to deal with a fallen daughter."

"If only you'd written me again. I raced to look through the post each day for years, thinking that one day there'd be a letter from you. Eventually, sadly, I gave up all hope."

"I just couldn't take the chance. It seemed far better to cut all ties rather than risk –" Lorelai stopped abruptly and contemplated for a moment. "Say, how did you find me?"

Christopher looked smug. "There are advantages to being an adult and being in charge of the family finances. I finally had the means to hire a private detective. He was worth every penny, too."

"You – you –" Lorelai could barely get the words out. "You hired a detective? You had someone – some stranger – _spying _on me?"

He shrugged, unconcerned. "I wouldn't say he was spying on you exactly. But he found your trail out of Chicago and deduced your approximate location. He came to Colorado and nosed around a couple of towns until he hit pay dirt here in Star-Crossed."

"He was _here_? Here in Star-Crossed?"

"Sure. I'd given him a picture of you from when you were Rory's age, but he needed to see you to confirm he'd found the right woman."

"Oh, good heavens." Lorelai sat perfectly still, stunned as it all broke over her. "He was the drunk. He was the drunk who barged into my home, wasn't he?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Yes, he apparently considers himself something of a frustrated actor. He puts on various roles to get close to the people he's tailing."

Lorelai leaned towards Chris, feeling her eyes snapping with fury. "He came into my house and put his hands on me. Do you realize that? He terrified Rory and Sookie. Dear Lord, it's a wonder Luke didn't kill him!"

"Yes, I heard that the good Sheriff was in attendance," he murmured, almost keeping the sarcastic comment under his breath. He spoke his next words in a normal tone. "I am sorry that the detective scared you though. That certainly was not my wish. I'm sure he thought he was doing a commendable job, getting close enough to confirm that you were indeed the woman I was looking for."

"You wasted your money."

"Not at all. Found you, didn't I?"

"But why, Chris? Why did you do this? You know I can't go back home again. Why would you even suggest such a thing?"

"Why did I do it? I missed you, Lorelai. And I wanted to finally see my daughter. Now that I've found you, you need to come back home. The only logical solution is to have you both come back with me."

"Oh, Christopher. Impractical as always." Lorelai's face took on a sour expression. "Suppose, for just a minute, that I would agree to your suggestion. I destroy Rory's ordered life and tell her the truth about her parentage. We get on the train and return to Connecticut with you. Then what? What happens after that? The high and mighty of Hartford welcome me and my ill-conceived child back into proper society? My parents extend warm and loving arms and take us back in? Christopher, really." She shook her head. "Think about the reality of what you're suggesting. We'd be ostracized. Rory would never be accepted. She'd be burdened with our shame no matter where she went. Be practical and see the truth. We must stay here!"

"No, Lor, you're wrong!" He turned to her excitedly. "See, your mother has been building up to this for a long time now!"

Lorelai stared at him. "I can't imagine what you mean."

"Well, when they first shipped you off, they told everyone that they'd had enough of your insolence and they'd sent you to that finishing school abroad. They stuck to that story even after you disappeared. They discretely searched for you, too, but didn't have any luck. Eventually enough time had passed that they had to come up with another explanation for your continued absence, so they said that you were enjoying Europe and taking the opportunity to have a proper tour before coming home and settling down. And then, when it became apparent even to them that you weren't returning, they started the rumor that you'd met some sort of a baron or duke over there and had run off and married him."

"_What?"_

"No, really, it was a pretty good alibi for you. It explained why you weren't home, and then Emily started to reveal to her circle of friends that they did not approve of the marriage; disliked the black-hearted duke you'd married, and that gave even more credence to why there was a rift between them and you." Chris paused. "And, you know, you being you, everyone believed it possible."

Lorelai groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"And then, a few years later, Emily let it be known that you and this disreputable Count-Something-Or-Other had had a baby. That way, if you ever did come back, there'd be an explanation for the child."

"And people _believe_ this?" Lorelai was aghast.

"Well, sure." Chris shrugged. "You know the gossip mill in Hartford."

"Oh. My. Word." Lorelai whispered, stunned beyond belief.

"But you see, don't you? This proves more than anything that your parents would accept you back. They've put this elaborate scheme into place so that should you ever return, there will be no shame. Every time they've journeyed to Europe in the past decade they've pretended to have seen you."

"They pretend –" Lorelai weakly shook her head. "Do they recount pretend conversations with me as well? Do they have pictures of their pretend granddaughter? How do they explain that I have never once contacted other friends and relations?"

"It's the evil Duke's fault. He won't permit you to correspond with anyone you knew in the States. He forbids pictures to be taken of the girl. It's all his fault, and goes to show why Emily and Richard dislike the man."

"You are making this up," Lorelai suggested hopefully.

"Nope. All the truth. Can't you hear your mother saying these things?"

"That's insane!"

"It well may be. But Lorelai –"Chris reached for her hand again. "You must see that this same insanity has provided you with a way to return home with your head held high. The problems are not insurmountable. Come home and have the life you were meant to live. Give Rory what she deserves."

Lorelai didn't even have to think about it. "No."

"At least consider it."

"Absolutely not."

Christopher clapped a hand to the top of his head and growled in frustration. "You always were the most headstrong girl! A solution materializes and still you balk at taking it!"

"I can't chance it. I can't ruin Rory's life. I've worked so hard to create this safe place for her. I can't risk tumbling everything to pieces. It's not fair to her."

"Not fair to her? To her? What about me, Lorelai? Is this fair to me?"

"It doesn't sound to me like your life has suffered, Christopher. You had a marriage. You are a respected, successful businessman. You adore your own daughter. Isn't that enough? Let me live in peace as well."

"You think I haven't suffered?" he questioned grimly. "I understand that you still see me as I was when last we were together. You see me as that same lackadaisical schoolboy; playing pranks and getting out of scrapes with a wink and a smile. But losing you changed me. It cut me in two. It's true; I made another life for myself when I saw I had no other choice but to go on. But how happy do you think I was when I knew every day I'd settled for something less than what I wanted? Look on me as I am now, Lorelai, and tell me I haven't suffered from the lack of you!"

"Oh, Chris," she whispered. Tears filled her eyes. Humbly she reached over to put both of her hands on his forearms, angling herself towards him. "It's true. I didn't think about the consequences to you when I ran away. I only thought to protect Rory and save you from the disgrace. I didn't think about our hearts. Truthfully, I couldn't afford to think about them. I'm sorry, though. I'm sorry that in the end you were hurt."

"Lor." His voice was husky. He turned his body sideways on the bench as well, leaning towards her. "You just need to give this a chance. That's all. Say you'll give me a chance."

Lorelai frowned. "I'm not sure that I understand. What sort of a chance? To return home? Because that I don't think –"

The rest of her reply was cut off when Christopher leaned forward even further and pressed a fervent kiss to her lips.

For a moment the shock of it cemented her into place, and then for another moment her memories ran in a jumbled pattern across her brain. She remembered for a brief, sweet second the sun-drenched afternoons spent with her Christopher, and the first golden, heady kisses shared by them when they were innocent youngsters. Her memory reminded her that she once believed he owned her heart. But then time shifted abruptly to the present and she broke the embrace, leaping off the bench in horror.

"How _dare_ you?" she raged at him. "How dare you!" She stormed back and forth in distress, sputtering, not able to even form words to address her outrage. She scrubbed the back of her hand over her mouth, trying to obliterate the feel of him. "You have no right, Chris! No right at all to take such liberties with me!"

He settled back against the bench, his arms stretched out along the back on either side, and watched her display of temper in wry amusement. Finally he shook his head in disbelief and chuckled lightly.

She turned on him at once. "You find this diverting, do you? How dare you!" she threatened again, and took a lunging step towards him. For a moment they both believed she was going to slap him, but Lorelai pulled herself up short just in time.

"Sorry, Lor, but if you could see your face!" Gamely, he tried to smile, to show her he meant no harm. "You look like you're about to spit. Tell me true, have I completely lost my ability to woo? Seems like there was a time when you swooned for my kisses."

Lorelai tried to regain her composure. "That was long ago. We were mere children. Now we are grown and kisses are not something to be bestowed lightly, without consequences. You know that as well as I."

He was still trying to appear untroubled by her reaction, and turned to teasing to cover his discomfort. "Maybe if I had a tin star pinned to my chest you'd be more receptive, hmm?"

She nearly choked. "Do not even try to suggest that the only reason I find your conduct appalling is because you think I have a beau. You will not take liberties with me just because we have a shared history. Do you understand me? Because if not, you will leave these premises at once. You will respect me, and my house, and the rules I have in place to protect my daughter! Do you agree to this, or not?"

"Calm down, Lor, I didn't mean –"

"Dinner time!"

They both jumped as Sookie's cheerful voice called to them from the house. They both immediately turned and saw that Rory was standing with Sookie on the back step, happily beckoning them to come in.

Lorelai gave Christopher a pointed, warning look before she gathered up her skirts and swiftly crossed the ground to the house. "Rory? What are you doing here? Did Sookie forget to pack your lunch pail today?"

"Really, Momma. Would that ever happen?" Rory smiled down at them, watching them climb up the steps to where she waited. "No, I told Sookie not to bother. I wanted to come home for lunch today so I could have some more time with our esteemed visitor!"

"I'm honored that I've made such an impression, Rory." Christopher's look to Lorelai was extremely pleased. "I'm looking forward to having more time to spend with you, as well!"

He followed Rory and Sookie into the good-smelling kitchen. Dragging her feet, a worried and distressed Lorelai brought up the rear.

* * *

Astonishingly, the meal in the kitchen shared between Christopher and the two Gilmore girls, joined occasionally by Sookie and Davey, was most pleasant. The clock chiming the next hour took Lorelai by surprise.

"You'd best be running back to school," Lorelai warned her daughter.

"And I have a business meeting with Mr. Kim this afternoon," Christopher reminded them.

"Momma, I have an idea," Rory said eagerly.

"Yes?"

"Why don't I escort Mr. Hayden to the Kim's, and show him around town on the way?"

"How can you do that, silly girl? You still have a half-day of school."

"You can write me a note, and excuse me from classes for the rest of the day."

"What?" Lorelai shook her head exaggeratedly, acting as though her ears weren't working. "Are you asking me to let you skip school? You? The girl who tried to cover up her measles spots so as not to miss a single day?" She next shook her head at Christopher. "You're in town one day and already your bad habits are leaching over to her."

"Don't blame Mr. Hayden," Rory insisted. "I don't know how much longer he'll be able to stay on here, and I don't want to miss this chance to satisfy my curiosity about his life. It's educational, learning about the differences between Colorado and Connecticut. Please, Momma? You know I'll study twice as hard after he leaves!"

Lorelai could barely swallow, let alone get words to leave her mouth.

"I think that's an excellent idea, Rory." Chris leaned across the table slightly, catching Lorelai's eye. "I promise I'll protect her just as you would, Lor. I'll bring her home safely. She'll still be the same sweet girl when she returns as when she left. I give you my word on that." He nodded at her, seriously for once.

She breathed a tad easier, trusting him to keep their secret for the time being. "Very well," she half-heartedly agreed. "I'll write the note."

"Oh, thank you, Momma!" Rory beamed at them both.

"I'll go get ready for my guided tour of Star-Crossed, if you'll excuse me." With a courtly bow, Chris got up from his seat.

Rory jumped up too, but Lorelai captured her hand, drawing her close before she could get away. "Just –" Suddenly she couldn't think of what to say; what warning to give to her daughter on this impulsive afternoon jaunt into town. "Be polite to Mr. Hayden. Don't be too inquisitive. Remember that his wife has recently passed away. There may be topics he does not wish to discuss."

"Oh, Momma." Rory bent down and gave her a tight hug across her shoulders. "You've raised me well, so have no fear! I won't embarrass you. I promise not to be impertinent or pry too deeply into his family secrets. You know I only want to hear tales of Princeton and Paris and what it's like to be aboard a steamship!"

"I know you'd never embarrass me, Rory." Lorelai smiled thinly. "Enjoy your outing, then." With her heart in her throat, she watched Rory run off to get ready for town.

* * *

_What secrets will be revealed when young Miss Gilmore leads Christopher into town? Will the girls be forced into leaving Star-Crossed? Will Lorelai's heart's desire yet be denied? Tune in again for another breathless episode of Star-Crossed, Colorado!_


	5. Partings

**A/N:** Hey, guess what? I think a lot of you don't care very much for Christopher! All I know is, I'm certainly sick of him! I understand your frustration with him, but I first needed to find a way for Lorelai to deal with him. The happy news is that this is his last chapter. The good Sheriff will be back in all of his ranting glory in the next installment. Promise!

As always, thanks so much to all of you for reading and commenting on this story. Also, more unending thanks go to **Eledgy** for her quick editing work on these chapters and her pitch-perfect guidance on Mrs. Kim. When our shared brain fails to work, you come through for me every time!

* * *

_Previously on Star-Crossed, Colorado, Lorelai and Christopher had their long-awaited talk about events that transpired sixteen years before. Although Christopher wishes for the girls to return home with him, Lorelai is convinced they must stay in Colorado for Rory's sake. As our story opens, Rory has received permission to escort Christopher to the home of her good friend, Lane Kim._

* * *

Christopher stood outside the two-story brick schoolhouse, thankful that Rory had hurried inside on her own to drop off the note excusing her from classes for the rest of the day. He didn't think he could stomach making polite chit-chat to the pretentious Mr. Medina, not on top of Sookie's excellent dinner fare.

Soon she was back out, her shining smile reminding him once again of the young Lorelai he used to know.

"Where shall we go first?" Rory politely asked him.

"You tell me. It's your town," he smiled.

"Well, what have you already seen? Where have you been?"

"I got off the train and the stationmaster pointed me in the direction of the boarding house. So those are the only two points of interest I've seen so far."

"Oh, Star-Crossed has much more to offer than just those locations!" Rory assured him. "Let's head into the center of town and go from there, shall we?"

"A most sensible suggestion, young lady!"

Rory led the way, and led their discussion as well. "What sort of subjects did you study at Princeton, Mr. Hayden?"

"Well, let's see…" Christopher cast backwards in his memory, trying to come up with an example that didn't include a prank that he feared would scandalize the young girl. Eventually he recalled a philosophy class taught by an energetic professor and that engendered a lively discussion between them until they reached the town square.

"This is incredible." Chris pointed to the perfectly landscaped area in front of them, complete with a large white gazebo proudly situated in the center. "I declare, you could pick this up and transport it back east, and stick it in the center of any town in New England. You couldn't tell the difference, except that our grass is less dusty."

Rory nodded. "That was its purpose, as I understand it. The Cliffords settled here from somewhere near Boston, and they missed their old hometown. They made a fortune when the railroad went through their property, and they used some of their money to make this park. They left money to maintain it, too. There's a plaque over there, on that big rock, if you want to see it."

Christopher chuckled. "That's not necessary, Rory, I'll take you at your word."

"We have all of the town festivals and celebrations here. There's a big one coming up next week, as a matter of fact. Founder's Day. Do you think you'll stay long enough to enjoy it with us? It's really a huge event for the town. All of the shops close and there's a big bonfire in the evening. Wouldn't you like to stay and see it?"

He smiled kindly at the hopeful girl. She was certainly beginning to tug at his heart, almost the way Georgia did. "We'll see," he said, a not-quite-promise.

"Do you want to tour the mercantile? Mr. Doose is extremely proud of it."

"I wouldn't miss it."

During the tour of the store, he tried not to grin at everything she said. She was certainly a charming girl. Every bit as pretty as Lorelai was at her age, but not as sharp-edged. Her witticisms and observations were funny but never mean-spirited. He found himself taking more and more pride in her with every step through the store.

She stopped and introduced him to several townspeople. He exchanged pleasantries with them but had to bite his tongue to keep from telling them exactly who he was and why this girl was so special.

At last they'd made a complete circuit of the store and stood again at the entrance. "We can't leave empty-handed, Miss Gilmore. What do you need?"

She blushed and shook her head at him. "Nothing at all, Mr. Hayden."

"Nonsense! Every young girl needs something. I know that!" He gave her his most beguiling smile. "Come on now. Let me reward you for being such an expert guide."

"No, really, Mr. Hayden. I couldn't."

"Then we'll say it's to commend you for your good grades."

"I wouldn't feel right about it, sir. I can't let you do that. Really."

Chris sighed. "Rory, it would give me such pleasure to buy you something. Look at it this way. I've missed being a part of your life and your mother's life for a very long time. If I had been around, I would have showered you with gifts on every birthday and Christmas. Let this one thing be a down payment on all of those times I've missed with you. What do you say? Won't you permit me to spoil you, just a bit?" He threw in a wink for good measure. "I'm sure your mother won't mind."

"Well…" He could see she was weakening. "I did drop my slate last week. It took a chip out of the corner and there's a crack running through it. I haven't told Momma because I didn't want to be a bother." Those big blue eyes looked at him nervously. "Is that too much?"

"Oh my dear girl." Impulsively he tucked her against him in a fatherly hug. "No, that is certainly not too much! And what a joy it will be to me, to think of you in school, doing your lessons on the slate I bought you!" He released her before he could get even more maudlin. "Go now. Pick out the one you want!"

"May I be of assistance?" Mr. Doose had been keeping a close eye on them and now he rushed to get behind the counter, wanting to wait on the stranger in the expensive waistcoat himself.

"This young lady needs a new slate," Christopher said, putting a fond hand on Rory's shoulder.

"And you are?"

"Oh! I'm Christopher Hayden, visiting here from Hartford, Connecticut." Chris reached out a hand to the supercilious shopkeeper.

Mr. Doose looked unimpressed, but shook hands. "Rory, has your mother given permission for this gentleman to be making purchases for you?"

"Well, not exactly." Rory Gilmore could not lie. "But he's an old friend of hers. I think it's probably all right."

"Yes." Mr. Doose gave him a snooty look. "I heard that Mrs. Gilmore had been imposed upon by a supposed acquaintance from back east."

"I didn't – I'm not _imposing_ upon her!" Christopher burst out.

"Hmm." Mr. Doose didn't even try to hide his disbelief about that. "We watch over our own here, Mr. Hayden. Rest assured that I will tell Mrs. Gilmore about this purchase for her daughter."

"It's not – She doesn't – Go ahead and tell her!" Christopher didn't know what he should say to put Mr. Doose in his place. He grasped the ledge of the counter and quickly counted to ten. "Could we just see the slates, please?"

The slates were arranged on the counter and Rory quickly selected the one she wanted. Christopher reached into his vest pocket and drew out his checkbook, wanting very much to be done with this transaction and get away from the rude man behind the counter.

"Wait. What's that?" Mr. Doose asked, once more suspicious.

"I'm writing you a check for this purchase," Chris replied calmly.

"Is it from our local bank?"

"No, of course not. Is that a problem?" Chris asked, pretending that he didn't already know what the answer was going to be.

"You have no money?"

Christopher reminded himself to take a deep breath. He thought about all of the business meetings he'd had with very imposing titans of industry. He thought about dealing with his own father. Surely he could handle one irritating shop owner.

"As it happens, I have not had time to go to the bank yet, so no. Right now I do not have enough funds in my pocket for this purchase. That is why I'm writing you a check. A check drawn on a bank in Boston where I happen to be a primary stockholder, as a matter of fact."

Mr. Doose swiftly tucked the slate under the counter. "Once you have cash in hand, I'll be glad to complete the purchase."

"Mr. Doose, I don't believe that this is the way to keep customers returning to your store."

"Well, Mr. Hayden, I'll certainly take your advice to heart. In the meantime, I'll abide by my wish not to be imposed upon, if you don't mind."

"It's all right," Rory assured Christopher as he whisked her to the door, rushing to get away from the embarrassing scene. "I really don't need the slate."

"No, Rory, you shall have that slate!" Chris found that he was nearly shaking from suppressed rage when they reached the street. "What a disagreeable man!" he snarled.

"Yes, he is," Rory readily agreed. "Momma gets upset with him at least once a week."

"Does she now?" Thinking of himself and Lorelai being united against a common foe brought a smile to his face. He started to feel a little bit better.

"Oh, yes. Mr. Doose is pretty overbearing at the town meetings, and he always says something that makes her mad. So nearly every week she tries to convince the Sheriff to arrest him for something she makes up. Last week she said she suspected he was tapping into the Brady's water supply, putting the stolen water into jars, and selling it to those with addled brains for a tidy profit." Rory paused. "The Sheriff laughs, but of course he doesn't really believe her." She paused again. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't like Mr. Doose either," she confided.

Chris made a non-committal noise. Hearing that the Sheriff and Lorelai had private jokes about Mr. Doose didn't help to elevate his mood.

As they continued their walk down the street, he noticed how many of the town's residents went out of their way to greet Rory. It appeared she was a favorite of many. He also noticed how many of the young men sent admiring glances her way. Of that she seemed completely oblivious, however.

"Do you have a beau?" he asked her.

The sweet pink blush spread over her cheeks again. "No."

"No? I'm surprised. You're certainly the right age to be all caught up in that. And you're a very pretty girl, Rory. I'd think that all of the boys would be after you."

The pink color deepened on her cheeks. "The boys at school either ignore me or tease me. They think I'm strange, because I read so much and enjoy the lessons. Momma says there will plenty of time for all of that later, anyway, when I'm older."

"That's true," Christopher agreed, but then another thought made him wonder. "Your mother hasn't forbidden you from spending time with a young man, has she?"

"Momma? No, certainly not!" Rory laughed. "She doesn't set restrictions on me like that."

"Good," Chris mumbled. He couldn't imagine that Lorelai would, given how she'd rebelled against her own strict upbringing. However, even with those heavy-handed rules they had still managed to produce the young lady at his side. Maybe he _could_ imagine forbidding Rory contact with young men after all. For that matter, maybe he'd better already set in place future rules for Georgia.

"Mr. Hayden, I was wondering. Did my mother have lots of beaux when she was a girl?"

"Lorelai?" A sly grin popped onto his mouth, remembering her then. "She was certainly pretty enough to attract all the fellows, that's for sure. And funny, too. Everybody wanted to be in her circle. Unfortunately she was also saddled with me, so that cut down on the boys looking to spend time with her."

It took a few steps before he realized Rory was no longer keeping pace with him. "Rory?" He turned around with concern and found her rooted to the spot. "What's wrong?"

She looked at him with big-eyed surprise. "You and my mother were sweethearts?"

"I…that is…" _Dammit_. Chris got his first taste of trying to edit the past. "We were…practically raised together, Rory. We knew each other from little on, and as I mentioned last night at supper, we understood each other very well. Our parents made no secret of the fact that they approved of the match. So, yes. For a time, we were – I guess you could say sweethearts."

Rory closed her open mouth and got her feet to move again. "What happened to change your circumstances?"

He cast about for an explanation that wouldn't have Lorelai gunning for him. "Well, I went to Europe the summer before I started Princeton," he said lamely, not sure what to add after that.

"Oh!" Rory was obviously doing calculations in her head. "And then she must have met my father," she deduced, nodding her head maturely.

"Yes," he tried to say with an air of sadness, hoping that would be enough to tug on her kind heart and prevent her from asking any more questions

They walked in silence for a time. "Do you want to see the church?" Rory piped up, before the quiet pause became awkward.

"Not especially," Chris admitted.

"It's pretty," Rory said. "And sort of peaceful. It gets used a lot. Reverend Skinner does the Sunday morning services, and Rabbi Barans uses it on Saturdays."

"Really? That's…unique."

"It's a Star-Crossed peculiarity, from what I've been told."

Chris laughed. "Do you and your mother go to church?"

"Yes, but…"

"But?" He smiled kindly at her.

"I get the feeling it's more because it's pretty and peaceful. And expected. It's sort of the social thing to do. Momma admits she did not enjoy church-going as a girl."

He grinned, and motioned for Rory to come closer. "A lot of starched petticoats to put up with on Sunday mornings, from what I understood. Can't say I'd be very fond of that, either. And some very long-winded sermons."

Rory laughed, but then her attention was caught by something else. He watched her face open up in beaming recognition and turned his head to see who or what had caused such a reaction in her.

"Miss Rory."

"Good afternoon, Sheriff!"

_Oh, joy._

"I see you're _still_ here, Mr. Hayden." This was delivered in a completely different tone than the affectionate greeting to Rory.

"Yes, I am, Sheriff. It's only been one day," Chris labored to say as pleasantly as possible.

"I believe you said you had some business here, am I remembering correctly?"

"Yes. I'm on my way to a meeting right now, as a matter of fact. Miss Gilmore is being thoughtful enough to show me the way to the Kim's."

A sudden smile split the lawman's taciturn face. He swiftly looked over at Rory and shared a glance with her before returning his attention to Chris. "I trust you have an alternative plan, if today's meeting should not pan out?"

"Why wouldn't it…" Chris had the sudden feeling of being on the outside looking in. "Is this Kim fellow some sort of a scalawag?"

"No. Just tough. You know how some people are. Just used to getting their own way." Luke shrugged. "I'm sure you've met the type before," he said blandly.

"Yes. Well." Chris tried to think ahead. "I do have several other properties in mind, should this one not be feasible to purchase."

"And once you get that wrapped up, you'll be on your way, right? After all, I'm sure you have people waiting on you back home, so you'll be anxious to get your Colorado business concluded."

"Of course." Chris smiled smoothly. "But I plan on enjoying my visit here first. Home will always be there. These views –" his arm swooped out towards the mountain vista "– and this fair company –" he nodded gallantly at Rory "– will not."

The gesture made Luke frown and he abruptly pulled out his pocket watch to check the time before turning concerned eyes to Rory. "What _are_ you doing out here, Miss Rory? I don't recall hearing anything about a half day free from school today. The Banyan boys would be here in the streets running wild if 'twas true."

"Never fear, I do have permission, Sheriff."

He still frowned. "Your mother knows that you're out here strolling about? With…_him_?"

"Yes," Rory nodded.

"Very well," he said in a grumble, because he well-knew Rory's penchant for always telling the truth. "I'd sure hate to have to cite you for truancy."

"Not me!" she assured him, laughing at the very idea.

"I believe you. I've never known any girl who loved schooling more." The last comment was directed to Christopher and almost sounded friendly.

"_I _did. Her mother was the same way." Christopher rather liked flaunting his long acquaintance with Lorelai in the Sheriff's face.

A stillness came over Luke. Slowly he spoke. "You've known Lorelai that long, have you?"

"Oh, yes. We grew up together," he confirmed, still bragging.

"I see." Luke's eyes darted from Rory's features to Christopher's, back and forth. Back and forth. "Rory looks very much like her mother, doesn't she?"

"Every bit as pretty, I'd say."

Embarrassed, Rory looked down at her dust-covered shoes. "Mr. Hayden, we should probably get on to your meeting."

"Yes, by all means. Don't let me keep you from your business meeting. And I should continue my rounds," the Sheriff murmured, inclining his head in a gesture of farewell. But he continued to stand in place, watching them, long after they walked away from him.

Feeling the eyes trained on the spot between his shoulder blades, Christopher kept quiet, even after it was physically impossible for him to still be in Luke's line of sight.

"Oh, here's someplace you need to see!" Before he could comprehend what she intended, Rory had glided between a set of swinging doors.

"Rory! Don't! You can't!" Christopher fought his own way through the partial doors, aghast at Rory's actions. His heart pounded at the thought of what Lorelai would do to him, should she discover he'd allowed the girl to visit a saloon.

Just inside he stopped in surprise, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light, because surely they were playing tricks on him. The inside of the saloon was nothing like what he expected. The furnishings suggested a proper parlor instead of a house of ill repute. Fat, comfortable couches upholstered in purple velvet were stationed against the walls, while tables and chairs filled the floor in front of a long, polished bar. The far side of the room boasted a raised platform, where tiny little girls were twirling, keeping time to the notes of 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' played by a very tall gentleman sitting at the piano next to the stage.

He located Rory next to the bar, where she was being enthusiastically embraced by a short, plump woman with blonde corkscrew curls hanging down on either side of her face.

"This is my oldest friend," Rory told him, her voice muffled since she was being pressed against the ample bosom of the woman.

"She means oldest 'cause of when we met, not 'cause I'm old!" the woman cackled. She released Rory after one last squeeze and approached Christopher. "Oldest because of age would mean Mr. Twickham, who's been dying since before Rory was born! Hiya, Handsome!" she said in greeting, sticking out her hand. "Babette Dell."

"Christopher Hayden." He suffered through a wringing handshake.

Abruptly Babette dropped his hand. "You're the feller from back East, ain't you? The one who's been botherin' Lorelai."

Christopher's head reared back at her tone. "I'm not – I'm not _bothering_ Lorelai!"

"Huh. Not what I heard," Babette said coolly. She moved back behind the bar. "D'ya want a drink?"

"No, I don't…" Christopher looked around the inside of the saloon again, still perplexed. "What is this place?"

"This is Patty's." Babette motioned her head towards the end of the room, where a mature woman in a vibrant red dress was leading the little girls through their steps on the stage. "She used to be a dancer. Still likes to keep her hand in the business."

Rory had taken herself down towards the stage and was now being hugged by the flamboyant Patty, while the tiny girls continued their practice.

"But I don't understand. Isn't this a saloon?"

"Some of the time," Babette agreed. "Right now it's a dance hall. Tonight it'll be a saloon. Later in the week we'll have the town meeting. The place kinda shifts its purpose as to what's needed. Now, d'ya want that drink or not? I can offer sassafras, root beer, or lemonade right now."

"No, thanks," he responded faintly. "This is certainly…a different sort of town, isn't it?"

"You got that right!" Babette leaned over the bar towards him, inadvertently offering him a more ample view of her décolletage than what he was comfortable seeing. "Star-Crossed is certainly different. We're an odd assortment here, but we all fit. We watch out for each other, mostly. Lorelai and Rory are loved by all of us odd ducks. I'd hate to think what would happen to the person who'd cause them harm."

Several meaningful beats went by. "Wait. Are you – are you threatening me?" Christopher asked incredulously, when the intent behind her words settled into his brain.

She hooted at that idea. "Me?" She gestured at her body. "All five-foot nothin' of me? I doubt that I'd pose much of a threat, Mr. Hayden." She chuckled and leaned against the bar again. "But now, say if my friend Patty, over there, would join me…" She nodded down at the diva in the swirling red satin, who gaily tossed a wave at him. "…and my husband Morey, there at the piano, would leap at once to defend the girls. You might dismiss him because he's so tall and lean, but believe it or not he used to be a sailor. He's surprisingly sinewy. Met him years ago in Seattle, at a saloon my aunt Lottie ran up there."

Christopher struggled for a response. "I'm not here to cause harm," he muttered. "I'm just visiting. That's all."

Babette studied him. "Then we won't have a problem."

Rory had rejoined them at the bar. "There's a problem?" she asked, hearing the last statement.

"Nah, Sugar, everything's dandy!" Babette reassured her. "D'ya want a drink, Rory? Lemonade?"

"We'd better not. I'm taking Mr. Hayden to a meeting at the Kim's."

"Is that a fact?" The grin Babette directed at him was almost menacing. "You'd better hightail it outta here, then. Wouldn't want you to be late for that."

"Bye, Babette!" Rory lead the increasingly glum Mr. Hayden out into the street, where he now felt that all eyes were judging him.

Eventually Christopher's feeling of being watched subsided enough to notice that Rory was leading him to the outskirts of town. A three-story house, resplendent with towers and turrets and colorful with stained glass, stood elegantly proud and alone across from the grain depot, the furthest-flung of Star-Crossed's businesses. Christopher automatically took off his hat to smooth down his hair and straightened his jacket and tie, preparing to meet the powerful broker who had commissioned such an impressive home. Now _this_ was the sort of person he was used to making deals with.

Rory turned the bell on the front door and a uniformed maid swiftly opened it. "Miss Rory," she said with a slight bow of her head, a smile quickly lighting up her face.

"Hello, Felicity! This is Mr. Hayden. He has a meeting here this afternoon."

"Of course. Please step inside and wait in the parlor." Felicity pressed back against the wall of the compressed entryway, giving them room to pass by her. "I'll tell Miss Lane you're here," she told Rory, shutting the door behind them. She waved her arms toward the side, indicating where the parlor was, and then promptly disappeared to alert the appropriate members of the Kim household about their visitors.

The entry was beautifully decorated with an elaborate table holding a blue and white porcelain vase of remarkable size. A gilded oval mirror hung above it, reflecting the deep maroon and gold pattered wallpaper. Christopher gave it one last, approving look, and then followed Rory into the parlor.

"Oh…my…" he said weakly, slowly turning to take in the room.

Every possible space in the large room was taken up with a table, or a chair, or a divan. Every corner was home to a tall set of shelves, and each shelf was filled with vases and small statues, or pictures, or books, or miniature ornate chests that looked as though they should be hiding pirates' treasures. A grand piano in front of a bay window occupied the only relatively clear space in the room. Every other surface was filled to capacity with bric-a-brac of varying quality.

Rory seemed to suddenly appreciate what the parlor looked like to his eyes. "Mrs. Kim is something of a collector of…everything," she said, attempting to explain.

"I guess she is," Chris murmured, still amazed at the mountain of possessions on display.

"Rory!" An Oriental girl half-a-head shorter than Rory ran into the room, grabbing her up in a rapid hug. She wore her long black hair in two braids, and gold wire-rimmed glasses lit up her happy face and eyes. From her ample silken sleeve she pulled out a roll of paper. "Look what I've got!" she announced to her friend.

"Lane, be careful!" Rory pushed the paper down and looked fearfully over her shoulder. "I swear, sometimes I think you want your mother to catch you!"

"I am careful," Lane said with assurance, but then she looked cautiously behind her as well, and moved the exciting paper to a more hidden spot between herself and Rory. "But isn't it magnificent? Michel brought it back from Denver for me last week. And Patty says I can come to her place and practice it whenever I can."

Chris craned his neck, trying to see what had this girl so excited. "It's sheet music?" he asked, catching a glimpse of notes on the page.

"It's for _The Pirates of Penzance!" _Lane informed him delightedly. "Oh, how I'd love to see it performed on the stage!"

"Why are you acting like this is some sort of contraband?" Chris asked.

"Because Lane's mother doesn't permit her to play popular music, only hymns or classical pieces are allowed in this house."

"Mama thinks popular music will distress my nerve endings and cause my brain to deteriorate," Lane explained further. "She thinks it's a bad influence on me."

"Why does she –" Christopher's question was cut off by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Rory sprang in front of Lane so the girl could quickly hide the forbidden music back in her voluminous sleeve.

"Lane. Who is this stranger in our house? Hello, Rory." Mrs. Kim somehow managed to give a civil nod to Rory, while sending Christopher an icy glare of suspicion at the same time. She was dressed regally, in a purple gown with a full bustle. Her posture was as straight as could be, making her seem much taller and more powerful than what she actually was.

Before Rory could make introductions, Christopher leaped to make amends. "Hello, Mrs. Kim, it's such a pleasure to meet you. I'm Christopher Hayden. I have a meeting scheduled with your husband this afternoon, here in your beautiful home."

Mrs. Kim's eyes narrowed as she took the measure of the interloper in front of her. "Mr. Kim is dead," she stated without emotion.

The color and good humor all dissolved from Christopher's face. "Dear God, when?" he burst out before he could control his thoughts. "Forgive me, madam. I am so sorry to hear that."

"Dead for many, many years." Mrs. Kim stood her impenetrable ground.

"But…" Christopher nervously shuffled his hat from hand to hand and tried to look over to Rory for a clue. "He…he set this appointment for me today."

"Good trick, when he is dead," Mrs. Kim pointed out calmly.

"I don't…I don't understand," he said helplessly.

Mrs. Kim looked him up and down one more time and apparently decided to come to his aid. "Possible your meeting is with me."

"No," Christopher disagreed, not intuitive about when to stay silent. "I'm sure it was with Francis Kim."

"That would be me," she said, raising one eyebrow slightly. "Frances Kim, at your service." She bowed to him, formally.

"But…but I thought…"

"I know what you think. You think women are not able to conduct business. You think women can't add up a column of numbers, or see what makes a good deal. You think women are incapable of being tough."

Christopher winced, being the recipient of a baleful glare tough enough to nearly bring him to his knees. "No," he feebly protested, trying to find his voice. "That's not true of me at all."

"Wait." She suddenly looked at him with even more scrutiny. "Say who you are again?"

He repeated his name and credentials.

Mrs. Kim sneered. "You're the man here to make trouble for Lorelai."

His mouth dropped open and it was a second or two before he could think of what to say. "I'm not here to make trouble for Lorelai!" he insisted.

"Hm," she said, a noise that managed to completely communicate her disbelief. "See that you don't. She is a good woman. Rory is a good girl. They do not care that we are different from them. Rory is a good friend to my Lane. Lorelai is also a good businesswoman. You think she cannot do business, too?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Hm," she snorted again. "We will see. Come with me."

She turned and swept out of the room and Chris hustled to follow her down the hall to an office room, leaving the girls sitting on the piano bench, where they had been waiting for the adults to leave so they could whisper together. The square office room was filled with a desk, side tables, and several chairs, and filled with as many 'collectibles' as each piece of furniture could hold. He sucked in his stomach and carefully made his way to the chair opposite her desk, fearing the uproar that would erupt should he jostle one of the delicate pieces and break something.

Mrs. Kim got right down to business, pulling a map out of a shallow set of drawers behind her desk. She spread it out on the surface between them and pointed to an area within a dotted line. "This is my property. You are interested, yes?"

"If the price is right, certainly."

"You studied the survey reports? You know this is a good investment. Maybe not now, but in the future, very good."

"That's why I'm here. I know that similar properties have been purchased around here and proven to be very lucrative. I assume your price will be based on those transactions, and if so, I'm sure we'll be able to come to an understanding."

"Good." Mrs. Kim sat back and almost smiled. "My price is $500."

"That seems very reasonable for a parcel of this size." Christopher started to relax and reached for his checkbook.

"$500 per acre."

"What?" He froze in shock. "That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" The smile was more easily seen now. "Maybe because I'm just a stupid woman, I do not know how to judge prices."

He tried to ignore his irritation. "You know as well as I do that's a completely absurd price for that parcel. There's no way it's worth that much! Certainly not on speculation!"

"Survey reports are very good," she said enticingly, patting a stack of papers on her desk.

"Not that good. But it doesn't matter. If you don't want to sell to me, that's fine. You surely don't think that I came all the way out here just to buy from you. I have other parcels, other locations to scout out. Land is something that's pretty plentiful out here. I'll just move on to another landowner more willing to deal."

"Good plan." Mrs. Kim nodded in agreement. "Where are the other properties at?"

Chris frowned, trying to remember. "Several are out by Maybelle, I believe."

"Ah, yes. Those are very good, too." She zipped around on her chair and quickly located another map in the chest behind her. She tapped her finger on two areas outlined in dots, and then looked up smugly at Christopher. "I own those too."

Shock rendered him passive for a moment, and then he had to struggle against exploding in exasperation. "You want me to believe that you own every available acreage in this part of the state?"

"You don't have to believe it," she told him mildly. An evil smile broke over her face. "But it is true."

Chris took a deep breath and stood up. "I'm sensing that we're done here, Mrs. Kim." He gingerly started to pick his way to the door.

"You are too hasty. I have deal for you yet."

"Oh? And what would that be, exactly?" He paused at the doorway, but tapped his hat against his leg impatiently. He didn't really expect to hear anything to his liking.

"I'll sell you the ground by Maybelle for what I paid for it, plus 10%. That is most reasonable. Do you agree?"

"It is reasonable." He looked at her narrowly. "Why are you suddenly willing to do business?"

"We make a deal. I will sell you good land. You make me a promise."

Chris shook his head, perplexed. "What could I possibly promise you?"

Mrs. Kim stepped out from behind the desk and walked up to him, close enough that he could see the resolve etched into her face. "You promise to leave the Gilmores alone. You make no trouble for them. You will buy your land and go away. You will stay away. That is my final offer."

"Why does everyone think the worst of me?" he nearly shouted, frustrated beyond his patience. "For the last time, I am not here to make any sort of trouble for my dear friend Lorelai! I am not imposing upon her! I am not bothering her! She is a friend of my heart, and she is delighted that I've found her again!"

Mrs. Kim looked at him coolly. "That is not what I heard."

"Then you heard wrong," Chris said forcefully. "Good day, madam!"

He stomped down the cluttered hall to the parlor. "Rory, I'm leaving," he said curtly, seeing her still sitting on the bench with her friend. "Goodbye, Lane."

"Wait! I'll come too!" he heard Rory shout behind him. "Bye, Lane!"

Soon they were out the door and across the street and walking briskly by the grain depot, heading back towards the center of town. Several streets were traveled before Rory chanced speaking.

"Even though it's before 5:00, Miss Patty will sell you a drink if you really need one." She openly examined his face. "And I think you might need one. Lots of people do, after dealing with Mrs. Kim."

Something about the way she was talking to him extinguished the irritable anger still coursing through him. She was teasing him, true, but it was mixed with what seemed to be genuine regard. The idea that she might be feeling a daughterly affection towards him somehow made what he'd just endured seem trivial.

He blew out a breath, releasing the pent-up frustrations. "That was the worst meeting I've ever had."

Rory nodded sympathetically. "Mrs. Kim is pretty intimidating. She thrives on winning confrontations."

Chris slowed his strides. "Her poor daughter. No wonder she hides sheet music in her sleeves."

"Yes, Lane has learned all sorts of tricks to remain a good daughter, but someday I fear it will all catch up with her." Rory looked at him seriously before turning her attention back to the street. "She doesn't hide things to be disrespectful, you know. But she has all of these interests in things her mother disapproves of, and there doesn't seem to be any way to reconcile the two." Rory sighed. "I worry," she confided.

"She's a lucky lass to have a friend such as yourself."

Rory shrugged at his compliment, but looked satisfied. "So do you want to stop at the saloon?" she queried, still concerned about him.

"No, it's not necessary." Christopher was able to once again smile. "I think I'd rather go back to your home and sit out back under that rather fanciful archway. It seems peaceful and soothing there."

"Isn't that the most amazing thing?" Rory looked exceptionally pleased at his comment. "It's one of my favorite places, too. It always has been. Aunt Mia would sit there with me and read stories. She made up tales about all of the animals carved there. The one I begged for all the time was about Gilbert the Goat. Gilbert was brave and strong, she said, and as long as he was there he'd always keep me safe. She said he'd never let anybody get through the arch who would hurt me." The young girl again looked up at him, her face all sweetness. "It was a long time before I realized _she_ was Gilbert. Aunt Mia was the one promising to always keep me safe."

"Were you worried about that?" He recalled when Georgia insisted a monster from deep in the ocean resided under her bed each night, resulting in tears and nightmares and many sleepy post-midnight trips to her room to reassure her.

Rory gave serious thought to his question. "I could tell that Momma worried. So I worried too."

"What did Momma worry about?" he asked indulgently.

Again Rory pondered. "I don't know for sure," she said hesitantly. "But I always thought she worried that someone would tell us we couldn't stay here anymore." She laughed, suddenly self-conscious about her revelations. "I don't know why I thought that! Aunt Mia loved Momma with her whole heart! She would have never wanted us to leave her." She looked at him, willing to laugh at herself. "I'm sure it was just some sort of childish imagining."

Chris smiled back, but it felt false. He offered his arm to Rory as they made their way back to the boarding house.

The knowledge that_ he_ was the one Gilbert the Goat would have banished from Rory's life? That he buried away where it couldn't surface to distress either of them.

* * *

Lorelai tied the bonnet under her chin without once glancing in the mirror, but not from a lack of vanity. In fact, it was exactly the opposite. She knew far too well how her appearance had suffered during the past six days. She had no desire to see her dull eyes and pale cheeks reflected back at her. Far better to tie her ribbons haphazardly and run out of the house before common sense stilled her feet.

Somehow she'd managed to get through six days of Christopher living in her house. Six days that had brought her constant stress and agony. Six days of constant alertness, always monitoring who was around and what was being said. Six days of eternal surveillance when Rory was home, listening to their conversations together without taking a breath, terrified at the thought of what words might come out of either mouth. Six days of whispered arguments from her and condescending coercions from him.

Six sleepless nights had turned her into a ghost, worry lines making a home on her face from the fearful burdens she now carried. Even the three petticoats she wore today were having trouble hiding the fact that her always voracious appetite had deserted her. She couldn't force food past the lump of fear in her throat. Instead of the young woman she recently believed herself to be, she now felt as old as the mountains outside of town.

But even with all of her anxieties and the mortification brought on by her haggard appearance, she couldn't resist the temptation of town. With all her heart she needed to see Luke. Just to see him, even if it was only for a moment. Just to know that he still existed. Just to know that there was still hope, even if a little bit more of it faded with each day. She needed to see him so that she could believe that this trial would somehow pass away and he would still remain.

She said a hasty farewell to Sookie, who was happily rolling out piecrust in the kitchen. She kept her head down and nearly ran into town, her heart thudding so rapidly she thought she might faint. Up and down the streets she paced, all but ignoring the greetings from townspeople, searching everywhere for him while trying mightily to look like she was _not_ specifically searching for him. She ran right past the Sheriff's office, lacking the bravery needed to step inside and ask for him.

Finally she spotted him on Cletus, not far from the livery stable.

"Luke!" she cried out, not thinking any further about her actions than what a relief it was to see him. She took her skirts in hand and ran across the street.

He spun the horse around at her shout and was on the ground and striding towards her before she'd finished crossing the street.

"Are you all right?" Those were the first words from his mouth. He put a caring hand on her shoulder and looked at her in a way that nearly seemed greedy.

She dropped her head, not wanting him to see her as she was. And it was then that she realized what a terrible idea this had been. How could she stand before him and let him see the stress that was destroying her? What could she possibly say to him that wouldn't give him a clue to the dark secrets she had no choice but to keep hidden? How could she have let her heart trick her into making such a mistake?

"I'm fine," she said, hoping it sounded like she was. She tried to glance up at him and longed to give him a smile of reassurance, but it wasn't possible. The fear over what might spill out of her mouth kept her lips from turning upwards. Once again she lowered her face and stared at the ground.

Suddenly uneasy, Luke removed his hand from her shoulder and took a step away. She could feel the distance that seemed to open up between them; the coolness and reserve seeping out of him. She longed to say something that would get them back to the people they'd been not so many days ago, but for once words failed her and she remained mute.

"How are you?" she at last managed to ask, sounding very proper and distant even to her own ears.

He shrugged. She could chance looking at him now, because he was refusing to look at her.

"Are…are all the sheep still accounted for?" she asked desperately.

He ignored her attempt at levity. "He's still here, I take it?" he asked bluntly.

"Yes, although he's not in town today. He hired Kirk to drive him around the county, to look at some properties he's interested in."

Luke nodded, looking far off in the distance. "You're enjoying his visit, then."

"Yes," she said, although it nearly choked her to say it. And the odd thing was it was partially true. When they weren't arguing about Rory or about returning to Connecticut with him, it was actually pleasurable to have him around. It was fun to relive old memories and revisit shared jokes. She found it soothing to have somebody there who knew her past and didn't judge her. There had been times over the past few days when they had reverted to the charming Christopher and playful Lorelai that they used to be, and laughter had reverberated through the boarding house. But always the fear of losing Rory had overshadowed all of the joyful moments. How could she possibly explain all of that to Luke?

"You know that Rory's been out with him, right? Walking through town together?" He sullenly kicked at a clod of dirt by his boots. "You gave her permission to miss school? For him?" His voice was thick with disapproval.

A little spark of anger flared through Lorelai. It was bad enough that she'd had to endure the past days sparring with Christopher over Rory. Being subjected to more of the same with Luke was enough to push her over the edge. After all, Rory was _her_ daughter, at least for the time being. _She_ was the one who made the rules for her daughter. Not Christopher. Not Luke. Not yet. _And maybe not ever…_

"Yes, I certainly did," she replied, her voice steely. "It's not every day she's able to converse with someone outside of our sphere of acquaintance. Of course I gave her permission. Do you really think that Rory's the type of girl to go behind her mother's back and sneak out of school? And even if she did, is it your job to inform me of her supposed misdeeds?"

Luke did look at her then, his face a mixture of sadness and amusement. Silently he tapped against the star pinned to his dark blue shirt.

"Oh," she said very low, conceding his point.

Awkward silence filled the space between them. Cletus stretched out his neck and nudged Luke in the back.

"I wasn't trying to tell you –" Luke began to say, gruffly apologetic.

"I should let you be on your way," Lorelai said at the same time, cutting him off. She tried to smile, but she knew it came out sickly. She began to back away, but his next words stopped her.

"He's the boy with the sailboat, isn't he?"

She could hear the misery evident in his question so clearly that it made her want to cry. Why, oh why had she ever told him about the ocean? Why did she ever mention the sailboat? She pressed two fingers over her lips and swallowed hard. "Yes." She had to force the word out, knowing it would hurt them both.

He nodded stoically, looking off in the distance again. Another moment passed, and then he moved towards Cletus.

"Luke, wait." He'd already swung himself up in the saddle, and she hurried over to stand next to the horse, staring at his boot in the stirrup until she was ready with her question. "You told me once that you could tell when people were hiding something; when they were pretending to be something they are not. What about him? Can you find anything false about him?"

He stared down at her and she didn't shy away, but kept her gaze steady on his blue eyes, which were looking stormy and dark today because of his choice of shirt and the turmoil brewing inside him. She could tell he was carefully considering what to say. Finally he sighed. "I think he's precisely who he claims to be," he said with a quiet resignation that tore at her heart. "Goodbye, Lorelai."

"Bye," she choked out, and abruptly turned and headed back home, not wanting to watch him ride away.

* * *

The next day was filled with blue skies and a drying breeze out of the west, a good laundry day. Late in the afternoon Lorelai was in the backyard, taking down freshly washed sheets from the clothesline.

"There you are!"

Her spine stiffened, hearing Christopher's voice. She didn't answer or turn, but kept on pulling the clothespins from the flapping sheets.

He appeared beside her, displeasure on his face, a folded telegram clutched in his hand. "Your indecision has got to come to an end, Lorelai. I have a business to run. I can't spend more time coddling your notions about protecting the girl. I'm needed at home. It's time we tell her and make plans to sell the boarding house and pack up for the trip. Enough is enough."

Again, she didn't answer, but her heart sped up and her breathing became rapid and shallow. Her hands shook as she reached for the next sheet, and small dancing dots shimmered in her eyesight.

"You can't keep ignoring this!" he fumed. "I've tried to be patient and understanding, but I can't afford that anymore. We're going home, and the sooner the better!"

"No." Doggedly she folded the sheet; dropped it into the basket at her feet; reached for the next.

"Will you stop!" He took her arms and spun her to face him. "Stop ignoring what I'm saying! Stop pretending that this isn't happening! Stop pretending that I'm not her father!"

She yanked herself out of his grip. "Hush!" Fearfully she looked about, worrying about who could hear them.

He lowered his voice, but not his message. "You can't mute the truth, Lorelai. I_ am_ her father. I want her to come home with me. I want _you_ to come home with me." He took a deep breath and tried a different tack. "You've surely discerned that I still love you. Come back and let's follow the path that was laid before us sixteen years ago. We always meant to be married. Come home and make that dream of our youth come true."

"No," she said, the only word she could apparently say.

"Because of _him_," he said with scathing contempt.

"No," she said yet again, but this time she was able to add more. "It's not because of him; or at least, not just because of him. It's because I don't want to go back to Connecticut. I don't want to be Mrs. Hayden and get swallowed up in that society of expectations again. I'm happy here, Chris. I love what I do and the people who live here. This is my home now. This is Rory's home. We're not leaving. Do you hear what _I'm _saying? _We are not leaving!"_

"I can't believe that you've become so selfish!" he raged, her words stinging.

"Me? _I'm _selfish?" she countered in disbelief. "_I'm_ the one who gave up everything! I'm the one who came here with nothing, and left everyone and everything behind, just to make some sort of life for Rory! How in the world can you presume to call that selfish?"

"Because it is! Oh, yes, what a noble sacrifice you made, Lorelai! Deciding that your daughter would be raised out here, miles from proper civilization and its advantages! It's one thing for you to decide that this is the life you want, with backbreaking work and maybe a few pennies to show for it at the end of the day. How cruel of you to decide that will be your daughter's fate as well! Think of the life she could live back East with me, and contrast that with the toil she faces daily here with you. Yes, how selfish of you to not even give her the choice!"

"I…I didn't…" Lorelai's head was spinning. She didn't want to admit that she'd never thought of her decision's negative impact on Rory's life. All she ever saw was the protection it offered.

"Think of it, Lorelai. Think of what I'm offering. Financial security. Every luxury that life has to offer. The chance for her to go to school and get the education she craves. You would deny her all of that? What does the future hold for her here? A teaching certificate? And then what? She marries some rancher and has thirty or forty years of hardship? Or she keeps teaching in some dusty one-room schoolhouse until she becomes an old maid? Is that really the life you want for her?"

Tears sprang to her eyes and she hung her head, not wanting him to see. "What I want is her happiness, the same as I've always wanted!"

"Then let me give it to her!" he said encouragingly, reaching out to take her by the elbows. "Think of the possibilities!" he said eagerly. "Not only school, but travel, too! We'll take her to Europe, Lorelai! We'll show her everything she's ever dreamed about in those books she knows by heart! And then, when she's ready, we'll find her a young man who's truly worthy of her, not some poor cowboy that can barely put a roof over her head. You've got to see how much better this will be for her!"

"But this…this is her _home_." The anguish was engulfing her.

"She'll have a new home," he said with authority. "And not just a home, but a _family_, Lorelai. She'll have a sister. She'll have grandparents to fuss over her. How can you deny her all of that? It's one thing for you to make that decision for yourself, but it's completely another for you to high-handedly decide that's to be Rory's destiny as well. How can you be that cruel? How can you deny the girl her own family?" He looked at her, pleading. "How can you keep her from knowing her own father?"

Lorelai buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling from the strain. Confusion made mush of her brain.

"Come home, Lorelai," Christopher said tenderly, pulling her against him in an embrace, lending her his strength to keep her on her feet. "Just come home and let me take care of both of you. Just say yes, and it's the last decision you'll ever have to make."

Her head snapped up. "No," she said, the confusion wafting away on the mountain breeze. She pulled away from his smothering embrace.

"Lorelai ―"

"No! I said no, Christopher! And I'll say no a thousand more times if I have to! No, we're not going back with you! No, we're not leaving our home! No, I'm not subjecting Rory to the vivisection she'd be tortured with if she was plunked into proper Connecticut society! We are staying here and that is it!"

He was fuming again. "You'll deny Rory her birthright? You're sentencing her to live out her life in this desolate country? You're insisting she remain some hardworking drone? Is that really what you want?"

"I want her happy, Chris. I want her to be whatever she desires. I want her to continue to be her own sweet self, happy and content and passionate about learning. I want her to continue to thrive here, where everyone loves her and doesn't judge her because her mother once made a mistake. I want her to live her life without ever hearing one whisper of scandal sullying her name." Lorelai took a breath and looked at him with fierce determination. "I'm not denying that you could give her unlimited advantages, but that's the one thing I can promise her and you can't."

"You're being impossible!"

"I'm being her _mother_! I'm doing my job! The job I've had since the hour she was born, which is to protect and love her! I'm not stopping just because you've shown up!"

Angrily he rubbed his face. "Maybe I can't make you, but I can still take her. She's my daughter, too. I'm trying to be sensitive with this, but if you force my hand I'll tell her myself, Lorelai. I swear I will. I'll tell her and she'll hate you for ruining her life. She'll come home with me of her own free will. See if she won't."

Blind panic and fear made her ruthless. "I took her and disappeared once," she said quietly. "I'll do it again in a heartbeat. And this time you'll never find us, no matter how many detectives you can afford to hire. Believe me, Christopher. You'll never see us again."

"I can't discuss this with you anymore or I'll –" With a growl of fury he let the unspoken threat hang in the air. He turned and stomped to the house, where he grabbed his hat off the entry table and lit out for town.

He walked through the streets of town until the white-hot anger and frustration began to ebb. He wasn't sure what time it was by then, but he pushed through the doors of Miss Patty's Saloon anyway.

It must have been after five, because some of the tables and barstools were filled with men hoisting drinks. He took a seat at the bar and Babette soon made her way over to him.

"Hiya, Handsome. Looks like you could use a drink for sure this time."

He nodded his agreement while sweeping off his hat and laying it on the chair beside him.

"Don't tell me. I'm pretty good at figurin' out what each man's poison is." She studied him so thoroughly that he started to fidget. "Bourbon, right?"

He sighed and nodded.

"Water?"

He nodded again.

She poured the drink, cast another glance at him, and added another inch in the glass before pushing it his way.

"Thanks," he muttered, and tossed half of it down.

"You still botherin' Lorelai?"

"Yes," he said succinctly. "No use denying it. You've all made up your minds about me, so what's the use?"

"You know, you never asked me the other day. About what Rory said."

Chris finished the drink and pushed the empty glass back at Babette, indicating he wanted more. "What'd she say?"

"That I'm her oldest friend." Babette replenished his glass, but didn't add the extra this time. "D'ya want to hear why?"

"Sure," he said listlessly, staring down at the drink in front of him. "Regale me."

"Well, it's because I was the first person Rory met in Star-Crossed."

"Really." Chris was unimpressed.

"Yes, really." Babette put both hands on the bar with a thump, making him startle and look at her. "It was in December, just about a week or so before Christmas, and it was a bitter cold night. The wind was whipping down outta the mountains somethin' fierce. It wasn't snowin' much yet, but the few flakes there were just about cut through the skin on your face, the wind was driving 'em so hard. Patty closed up early and sent us home. Said it wasn't a night fit for neither man nor beast, she did.

"Well, Morey and me were rentin' a little farmhouse not too far outta town at that time. We kept a horse and buggy in the livery stable to get us home. We bundled up and started the drive, but all of a sudden-like, I see this shadowy thing along the side of the street, and I yelled so loud it scared the horse and it was all Morey could do to keep the poor beast from rearin' and running off to his warm stall at home."

"What was it?" Chris asked, intrigued in spite of his bad humor.

"It was a girl. A poor, scared girl. A girl shiverin' in the cold, in a coat that weren't meant for bitter prairie winds. A girl who was lost and frightened, and tryin' to make her way through the dark, fightin' against the wind and those sharp snowflakes. Tryin' to carry a valise and a bundle in her arms. A bundle that turned out to be a tiny, helpless baby."

"Lorelai," he whispered, shutting his eyes.

"Yep. Lorelai. Nothin' but a scrawny girl at the time. Terrified, was what she was. With her last bit of strength, she tried to fight me takin' Rory from her, but I could see she was ready to collapse. I took the baby, and Morey hopped down and picked up Lorelai and got her in the buggy. He said later there weren't nothin' to her at all. Wonder the wind didn't just pick her up and blow her all the way back to St. Louis."

He silently took a small sip of his drink.

"Morey and me didn't know what to do with 'em. I was holdin' the baby close, to keep her warm, and when I put her up against me I could feel she was runnin' a fever. Poor little thing was burnin' up with it. Lorelai wasn't much better. She was babblin' all sorts of crazy stuff. Mia Halloway was known for her soft heart and we knew we needed to get them to someplace warm, so we turned the buggy around and headed for the boarding house. We got there and managed to get them both out, me takin' the baby again, and Morey mostly carryin' Lorelai. We knocked on the door, and Mia stepped out to see who we was bringin' at that time of night. She opened her arms and Lorelai stumbled into 'em, and Mia said, 'Oh, my dear. You're home. You're home now.'"

"Of course she did." With a grimace he took another gulp of the bourbon.

"Yes, she did," Babette said with utter authority. "And then it turned out that Lorelai was her niece! The whole town has always thought it was some sort of Christmas miracle!"

Christopher snorted. "Is that right?"

Babette put her hand down over his. "Yes. It is."

He just shook his head.

"Listen, you need to understand what sort of town Star-Crossed is, Mr. Hayden. It's the sort of town that believes in second chances, because practically everybody in town has needed one. Or two. Nobody looks down their noses at anybody else. Well, except maybe Taylor Doose, but he's an ass, so he don't count."

Chris had been in the midst of trying to take a drink, and he sputtered with shocked laughter at that.

Babette shot him a quick grin. "Well, he is. Ain't many here in town that'd disagree with my opinion on that."

"Nor would I!"

"Look, we all think the world of Lorelai and Rory. Imagine what kinda fortitude that girl had to do what she did. What was she? 16? And she had the gumption to pick up that baby and get on a train and come out here on her own to find her aunt, and to make a new sorta life for her and Rory. Think on that, Mr. Hayden. Think about what train travel was like, back 16 years ago. She didn't have nobody helpin' her make connections, or helpin' her with her luggage, or with the baby neither. She did it all on her own. Think about the strength that took. Think about how brave she was."

"Can I get another drink?"

Babette hesitated. "Are you goin' to think on what I told you?"

"Is that what's required to get another drink?"

"Yes," she said firmly.

"Then I guess I'll think on it," Christopher said dully.

Without other options for the time being, Babette brought over the bottle.

* * *

Unlike the play-acting detective he'd hired, Christopher's staggering walk back to the boarding house a few hours later was a truthful one.

Stumbling up the walk, he could see lights in the front parlor window. He was sure he could hear music. Real music, not just a tune in his head.

Inside he found a warm scene. A husband and wife traveling to Salt Lake had taken a room for the night. The husband was playing the piano, while the wife was holding a delighted Davey and singing along with a good strong voice. Jackson and Sookie were dancing, as were Lorelai and Rory. Most of the boarders seemed to be there, as was the odd snooty Frenchman, Michel, and although he looked disdainful, he didn't seem to have been coerced into taking turns dancing with the ladies in attendance. Hands were clapping, feet were tapping, and everyone looked as happy as could be.

As much as Christopher didn't want to admit it, the scene reminded him of one big happy family. A happy family, with Lorelai and Rory smack in the middle of it.

* * *

The next evening Christopher sat on the front porch swing, smoking a cigar. The pounding in his head had finally subsided and he was able to think clearly. He'd avoided Lorelai all day, not feeling up to tussling with her again over their stalemate. He was impatient to get it settled, though. He needed to get home. He'd prefer to convince her without an angry division, but he'd do whatever was needed to take them home.

The door creaked open and Rory poked her head out. "Do you mind some company?"

"Of course not." He stubbed out the cigar.

"You don't have to," she said, sitting down beside him and gesturing at the cigar.

"Georgia doesn't care for the smell. I doubt that you would, either."

Rory smiled, and started the swing moving back and forth. He was glad the effects of the previous night's drinks had worn off as his stomach swayed with the swing's motion.

"Could I ask you something, please?"

"Anything you wish, Rory."

The girl folded her hands over her middle and looked pensive. "I was wondering what my grandparents were like. I hate to ask, but Momma won't talk about them. She says they banished her for marrying against their wishes, and that they wouldn't want anything to do with us. Are they really that mean-spirited? Do they really hate us that much?"

A lump lodged in Christopher's throat. "Oh, Rory. I don't think…They _were_ very angry at your mother. That much is true. But now…Now I think they would welcome the opportunity to know you. They could never hate you, my dear. They would love you, just as I do. I think they regret the things they once said to your mother. I think they would be very grateful for the chance to make amends."

Rory sat quietly, absorbing what he'd said. "I don't think Momma will ever believe that. She is convinced they want nothing to do with us."

Christopher saw a golden opportunity. "You know, Rory, there's no reason you couldn't come and visit me sometime. Georgia would love to entertain you. And then you could meet your grandparents for yourself. You could see just how much they want to know their granddaughter."

"Really?" Rory looked completely stunned. She turned, dragging her foot against the floor, bringing the swing to a stop. "I could do that?"

"Certainly you could!"

"But Momma –"

"Your mother, too, of course," Chris said swiftly. "Both of you should come to visit. It's past time for a reconciliation."

Rory was sadly shaking her head. "She'd never do it. Not unless we could pay our own way. And maybe they're ready for a reconciliation, but I'm not sure she is."

"Maybe you could talk to her about it," Chris suggested slyly. "If she hears it from your own mouth, that you desire the chance to know your grandparents, then maybe she'll entertain the idea. If we both work on her about it, eventually she'll give in, don't you see?"

"Maybe," Rory said, not sounding very optimistic. She moved to sit straight on the swing again, nudging it going with her toe. "Traveling all the way across the continent," she whispered to herself, awestruck.

Christopher grinned in the twilight, letting the suggestion do the work for him.

After a bout of contemplative silence, Rory spoke up again. "Could I ask you something else?"

"Ask away," he replied grandly, feeling pretty sure of himself for the first time in days.

"Again, it's something that Momma refuses to talk about, because it makes her too sad. It's about my father. Did you know him, Mr. Hayden?"

A most curious feeling caused his lips to clamp shut.

"He must have been wonderful, for Momma to have fallen so deeply in love with him, and to stay so devoted to his memory for all these years. I try all the time to imagine what he was like. Did you know him? Can you tell me about him? It would mean so much to me to hear about him."

Without even realizing it, Christopher had turned his body to look at the girl sitting next to him. He looked into her sweet, open face. He studied her eyes, so like Lorelai's, and gazing at him now in complete trust.

He cleared his throat. "Rory…"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes?"

It hit him then, how very nurtured and protected this girl had been. How Lorelai's love and care had kept her so beautifully innocent. And what a wonderful, extraordinary thing that was.

He swallowed hard, putting his own agenda aside. "Alas, I fear I didn't know him. That European trip of mine, you know. I'm afraid…I can tell you nothing."

"Oh," she sighed, disappointed, but she quickly perked up again. "Still, it's a most romantic tale, don't you think? Even though they were together for so little time, Momma is still in love with him."

Feeling like he was sweating, Christopher wiped his brow, and was amazed when his hand came away dry. "Rory, I'm going to be leaving tomorrow."

Again the swing stopped abruptly. "What?" she demanded, shocked.

"I need to go home," he clarified. "Georgia misses me. And my business demands my attention. As much as I've loved being here, and meeting you, and…" He pulled in a deep breath of air, forcing himself to go on. "It's time for me to go home."

"I see." Her voice was tiny and sad.

"But this is what you must do, Rory." He took her hand and held it tightly. "I'm going to leave my address up in my room. You must write me. Promise now, that you will. I want to know everything that you do. You must tell me about your classes, and about the people who frequent the boarding house, and if anyone ever gets the best of that vile Mr. Doose."

She laughed a little at that. "All right."

"And if there's ever anything I can do to help you, you must promise to let me know. If I can pay for schooling, or if there's anything whatsoever you need, you must tell me."

She frowned. "I'm not sure –"

"I know all too well how proud your mother is. I know she would never ask for anything. So I'm depending on you, Rory. If you ever find yourselves in a circumstance where assistance is needed, you must write and tell me. You must help to ease my mind about that. Promise me you'll tell me if you need anything at all."

"All right," Rory said, but she still sounded doubtful. "I promise."

Before he could have any qualms about what he was doing, Christopher leaped up off the swing. Rory stood up too. He pulled her to him in a bone-crushing hug. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Lorelai Gilmore," he whispered, and then he kissed her forehead. "A real pleasure."

"You too," she murmured, a little confused at his emotional farewell.

"And now I must go and pack," he said, as cheerfully as he could. "Goodnight, my dear."

"Goodnight, Mr. Hayden."

* * *

Inside, Christopher found Lorelai in a small room behind the kitchen. It was meant to be a sitting room for her bedroom, but she used it as an office. She sat hunched over a desk, entering figures into a ledger.

He cleared his throat and her head jerked up, startled to see him. The lamplight was reflected in the oval lenses of the gold wire-rim spectacles she wore.

Grinning, he tapped against the side of his own eye, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Oh!" Swiftly she pulled off the glasses, holding them nearly hidden in her hand. Then she shrugged and smiled ruefully back at him. "Too many years of sewing. All of the tiny stitches have caused my eyesight to falter for close work, like keeping accounts. Now you know all of my secrets."

He leaned against the door frame. "Believe it or not, they look attractive on you. Lends you an air of sophistication."

"Christopher Hayden. Always the sweetest talker in the room."

He gestured around the room, pointing out that it was only the two of them there.

"Even so," she protested. "It's always been true."

He sighed, ready to tell her. "I'm going home tomorrow, Lorelai."

She sat up straight, her face growing grim, preparing for battle.

He spoke before she could. "I've decided you're right. This isn't the time to tell Rory. I'm going to go home and leave the two of you to figure it out."

She clapped a hand over her mouth in shock but soon appeared still wary. "Don't play me for the fool, Chris."

"I'm not trying to fool you. For now, it's time for me to leave. I'm not going to force you into coming home with me, even though that's still what I desire."

"I don't understand." Lorelai looked bewildered. "You were so set on this. What happened to change your mind so suddenly?"

He came further into the room and leaned his hip against the edge of her desk. He picked up a ruler laying there and shuffled it between his hands, needing something to do other than look at her.

"Rory came to me tonight. She asked me to tell her about her father."

Lorelai gave a horrified gasp of dismay.

"Don't fret, Lor. I found I simply couldn't do it." He shook his head, marveling at his own lack of courage. "It appears I love the girl. She sat there beside me tonight, giving me the perfect opportunity to tell her the truth, and I found that I simply couldn't do that to her. I couldn't be the one to destroy the peace she's known all of her life." He looked straight at Lorelai, conceding defeat. "You win this round."

"It's not about winning, Chris. It's about Rory."

"I agree. Isn't that what I just told you? That's why I'm heading home to Connecticut by myself and leaving the two of you here to continue this life you've forged. But don't be mistaken, this is still an unsatisfactory end for me."

Lorelai nodded, reluctantly.

"She's my daughter, Lor. I want to claim her as my own. She needs to know who she is, and she needs to have access to all of the bounty I can provide. I'm proud of her. I want to acknowledge her. It's not fair to her, to only know an incomplete history of her background. She deserves the chance to know her family. She deserves to make up her own mind about where she'll live and who she'll be."

Lorelai met his eyes and swallowed hard. Very slowly, she nodded again. "I know," she agreed. "I just don't know how to tell her when it won't do her harm."

"You've got to figure it out. I want to be a part of her life, Lor. Now that I've found you again, I don't want to be pushed to the outskirts. I want her to be allowed to communicate with me."

She gnawed at her bottom lip for a spell before her shoulders slumped. "All right. That's a reasonable request, I guess."

"And I want her to come to Hartford for a visit sometime."

"Absolutely not!" Lorelai jumped to her feet, wringing her hands.

Chris remained calm. "I'm not saying right now, but sometime. And not alone; I'd expect you to come too. Let her see my life. Let her meet her grandparents and Georgia. Let's ease her into this other life she could have."

"Oh Lord, Chris." She collapsed back into her chair, despondent. "It will ruin us," she whispered forlornly.

"I think not," he said lightly. "You are strong enough to withstand anything, I'd wager. You're strong, as you ever were, and you've raised a strong daughter as well. But in any case, you now have a reprieve. You can lay the groundwork now for telling her in pieces, perhaps, so it doesn't take her so by surprise."

"It will shatter her."

"You won't let it," he admonished her. "_We_ won't let it," he amended. He rose from the desk and headed for the door, but stopped before he reached it and turned around. "Lorelai, back when we were young…Back when Rory was begun…" He faded out, not knowing how to continue his question.

"Yes?" she encouraged him, gently. She got up and joined him by the door, holding her arms crossed over her chest.

"Didn't you love me then?"

She pulled in a deep breath of air. "I did."

"But now you don't?" He shook his head. "Why are you so sure you couldn't learn how again?"

"I do love you, Chris, but not the way a wife should love her husband. It's not that sort of love which I feel for you. It sounds like you've already had one marriage that didn't measure up to the ideal. I wouldn't wish for you to be burdened with another like it." Lorelai smiled, her lips trembling a bit. "I don't want to be harsh, but trust me when I say this is truly for the best. For both of us, I believe."

"I can't believe that yet, Lor. But I do wish you happiness. I really do." He reached out and squeezed her arm affectionately. Then he turned and left the room to go and finish packing his trunk, blinking back the tears forming in his eyes.

Alone in her office, Lorelai was doing the same thing. But the tears threatening in her eyes were for a totally different reason. In relief she fell down into her chair, letting her face tilt up towards the ceiling in praise of the miracle that had just happened.

* * *

The spring weather had taken a turn. Chilly air blew across the open railway platform, making both Lorelai and Christopher huddle inside of their coats. Chris pushed his hat more firmly onto his head and then stuck his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, glad for its protective warmth.

"Are you warm enough? Do you want to step back inside?" he asked Lorelai with concern. A snippet from his drunken night slipped through his consciousness, and he swore he could see her as a girl again, struggling against the cruel blizzard winds. His imagination made him shiver.

"I'm fine," she assured him, smiling serenely. She'd smiled almost continually since he'd announced his departure. "You forget I'm used to this weather." She took his arm and drew him close against her side, offering him some additional warmth.

Although still far away, the train's whistle sounded. Their time together was rapidly growing to a close.

He pulled her to stand in front of him, so he could see her face. He held her arms, keeping her in place.

"You will write me, won't you? You'll make sure that Rory writes?"

Lorelai laughed. "Her first letter will probably beat you home. She probably dropped it into the post on her way to school this morning!"

His smile was strained. "I'm going to miss you. Both of you. It's going to be like when you first disappeared, all over again. My heart is breaking once again."

Lorelai bent her head, fighting her own emotions. "I'm so sorry for that now, Chris. I'm so sorry I kept it all from you." She looked at him, her eyes glittering. "And I'm so grateful that you're allowing us to stay as we are. Thank you. Thank you so much for letting me be the one to tell our secrets to Rory."

They could hear the train chugging along the tracks now. The sound grew louder each second, heralding its imminent arrival at the station.

Christopher put his hand up against Lorelai's face, his thumb rubbing against her cheek. "I look forward to being able to tell the world that I'm her father. It will be one of the happiest days of my life."

Lorelai leaned into his hand and smiled tremulously at him.

With a blast of steam and a thunderous roar, the train pulled to a stop in front of them, brakes screeching.

"Take care of yourself. And of Rory." He quickly leaned forward, kissing Lorelai on her forehead, almost the same kiss he gave to his daughter the night before. He reached for the small valise at his feet, preparing to go and get on the train.

Lorelai grabbed his hand, keeping him from leaving her. "Chris, again – Thank you. I can never – Just thank you. Thank you a million times for this kindness."

"You're welcome," he said, his voice choking up. He reached for her face again, landing one last kiss to her cheek. "But oh, how I wish you still loved me," he whispered to her. Then he broke away, striding purposefully towards the waiting train.

Lorelai stood on the platform, waiting, until the train pulled out. Gaily she waved her handkerchief in the air, bidding him farewell with a happy heart.

* * *

Across from the open railway platform, the land tilted upwards sharply, forming a ridge. Partway up the side, slabs of rock had pushed out of the ground eons ago, giving a visual reminder of the earth's power to rearrange objects man thought to be immovable. Grass struggled to grow on the rocky ridge, and several spruce trees, scraggly but hardy, had taken root and lived to maturity. Shrubs and sagebrush also sprouted alongside the rocks.

The ridge of jagged rocks was one of the first places old Sheriff Carlisle had shown Luke Danes when he had been a young and eager deputy. The rocks and trees provided an excellent cover for anyone wishing to keep hidden from sight. The height of the ridge made it possible to keep eyes on anyone lurking about the train station. It was possible to see the platform from this vantage point, even after the train had pulled into the station. The lawmen of Star-Crossed had used the ridge countless times over the years, keeping tabs on various ne'er-do-wells as they came and went from their fair town.

Luke was there now, his back resting against one of the slabs of jagged granite. The rocks and trees partially sheltered him from the brisk wind, not that the cold air even registered to him. He'd been there for a long time on this day, long enough to become one with his surroundings. He'd been standing there for hours. Watching.

Because he watched the ones he didn't trust.

* * *

_Are Lorelai's troubles really behind her? Will she be able to repair her relationship with the Sheriff? Will Rory ever find out the truth about her father? Join us next time, for more romance and suspense in the Old West!_


	6. A Really Good Talk

**Author's Note:** Well, here's the chapter I think you've all been waiting on! Enjoy!

* * *

_Last time on Star-Crossed, Christopher Hayden had finally given up on his plan to claim Rory as his daughter and take both of the Gilmore girls home with him to Connecticut. In relief, Lorelai looks now to get her life back to normal, not knowing that the Sheriff has seen much more than what she suspects..._

* * *

The moment Lorelai's eyes opened she could sense it was a special day. Already she could feel the excitement fluttering in her stomach, the same way butterflies hovered around the milkweed pods during the summer. Still drowsy, she breathed in deeply and forced herself to lie quietly, letting the significance of the day gradually seep into her consciousness. Was it her birthday? Christmas? What grand event had her nerves tingling before the day had even begun?

With a rush her memories awoke and she sat straight up in her grand four-poster bed, bouncing her bottom against the well-filled straw tick beneath her a time or two in sheer excitement. Christopher was gone! Her secret remained hidden and Rory was safe! Their life in Star-Crossed would be allowed to continue on as before.

Lorelai bowed her head and buried her face in her hands, collapsing momentarily in humble gratitude. It was hard to believe she'd been so mired in despair only a few days prior. But now, praise God, all was right in their little corner of the world again.

She raised her shining face and saw that filtered sunlight was beginning to lighten the flowered curtains in her room. For once she was happy to jump out of bed and greet the day.

Noises from the kitchen told her that Sookie was already beginning breakfast preparations. Lorelai rushed through her dressing rituals so that she could go out and help her. She washed her face and hung up her nightgown, slipping on her everyday red gingham dress over her head. She left her hair in the braid she'd slept in, but neatened it up and tied a bright red bow around the end to symbolize the joy of the anxiety-free day.

She put her hand on the doorknob and let a shiver of anticipation work through her middle. As if the day wasn't happy enough, later on she'd make sure to see Luke. She could talk to him now without worry. Once again they'd be able to hint at what they both hoped the future would bring them. The prospect seemed too good to be true. With one last eager bounce on her toes, Lorelai opened her door and floated down the short hallway to the kitchen.

"Well, good morning, Sunshine!" Sookie greeted her, noting her happy face immediately. "What did you do, sneak out here and fix yourself a pot of coffee before the rest of us were up?"

"I think you've mistaken me for some other Lorelai. Granted, I do love coffee, but not enough to voluntarily give up my sleep to make it." Lorelai gave Sookie's shoulder a quick squeeze, and then took the scrambled egg and applesauce she had ready for Davey. She sat down across from the boy and began to feed him his breakfast.

Between mixing pancake batter, frying sausage, and performing a dozen other breakfast-related tasks, Sookie kept stealing little glances back at Lorelai. "You do look exceptionally happy," she observed.

"I am," Lorelai genially agreed, opening her mouth in a round 'O' to get Davey to do the same. Once he did, she spooned in some applesauce.

"Was our recent guest so tiresome that his departure is now the cause of this rapture?" Sookie wondered.

"It was not a wholly joyful event," Lorelai had to admit.

"No? Seeing an old friend, lost to you for so many years, was not joyful?"

"In many ways the visit was fraught with more tension than joy."

Sookie's hands never stopped stirring and flipping. "Now that he has departed, has your appetite returned?"

Lorelai laughed, and Davey grinned back at her. "Yes, my appetite has returned with a vengeance! I swear I could eat as many pancakes as you put in front of me!"

"I speculated that perhaps 'twas love stealing away your hunger," Sookie said slyly.

Lorelai stopped administering to Davey and turned to stare at Sookie's back. "You – you think me to be in love?" she questioned, haltingly. She'd tried her best to hide away her feelings for Luke, but it didn't really surprise her to learn that Sookie had discerned them. She'd always known her better than anyone. Sometimes even better than Rory.

"And if you are, who's to blame you?" Sookie observed briskly. "After all, Mr. Hayden is quite the good looking man. Michel even commented on it."

"No!" Lorelai's snort of derision wasn't exactly ladylike. With a flounce she turned back around to Davey, who was opening his mouth like a baby bird, trying to remind his Auntie Lorelai of her duties. "No, I am certainly _not _in love with Mr. Hayden."

"Really?" Sookie's whole body was in motion, dancing in front of the cookstove, but she still managed to give her shoulders a shrug. "Quite the romantic tale, him coming all the way out here to find you again. Wasn't that a calculation to win your heart? I declare, I wouldn't have been surprised to see you pack a trunk and head east with him."

Lorelai kept silent, breaking up a crust of bread for Davey to gnaw.

Sookie turned enough to see Lorelai's tense back. "He didn't ask you to return with him?"

All of Lorelai's focus was on the pile of crumbs now in front of her. "It was more of a demand than a request."

"Ah." Sookie nodded to herself. "And you don't take kindly to demands." Some moments passed, Sookie's spatula scraping against the cast iron. "You really have no desire to go back East? See your family? I dare say life as Mrs. Hayden would be one of ease."

"My life is here," Lorelai replied. "My livelihood. My friends. My heart is here in Star-Crossed. There's nothing waiting in Connecticut that could tempt me away."

"Your heart!" Sookie sounded delighted. "Now I see! So 'tis Master Medina that binds you here!"

Lorelai couldn't choke off the laugh that burst out of her. "Sookie, please use care when you toss about such wild speculations! What if I'd had food in my mouth?"

"So Mr. Medina is relegated to the wayside as well," Sookie sighed with pretended sadness. "Why I've been feeding him for so many dinners is unknown then. A waste of good beef, I'd say. Oh, well. I guess that only leaves our lonely lawman left as a contender for your heart."

Deliberately Lorelai didn't reply. She became even more focused on feeding Davey his breakfast.

A very pleased smile settled on Sookie's mouth. "I take it that your ride with Luke was pleasant? We really haven't had a chance to discuss it, what with the household being in such an uproar with Mr. Hayden present."

"It was a lovely day," Lorelai tried to say with dignity, not wanting to give too much away.

"Luke is one of the nicest people I've ever known," Sookie said with feeling. "He always has been, even as a boy. It's about time he has some joy in his life."

"Yes. He deserves that," Lorelai said softly.

Piling pancakes and sausages on a platter, Sookie's eyebrows rose. "He told you about Rachel?"

"Yes."

Sookie stopped work and turned to stare at Lorelai. "And did you tell him about Mr. Hayden?"

"No." Lorelai chuckled darkly. "I hardly expected someone from my past to suddenly appear after 16 years."

"Well, I doubt that Luke expected Rachel's ghost to appear to you, either, but he told you about her." Sookie's hands were on her hips. "Don't mistake Luke's utility with words as disregard. If he cares enough about you to reveal his past, he wants the same from you. Don't leave him in the dark, Lorelai. You'll live to regret it if you do."

"I…I won't." Lorelai's mouth was suddenly very dry. She got up to get her first cup of coffee.

"Here. Take this platter out to the table first," Sookie ordered. Preparing meals always made her very bossy.

"Yes'm," Lorelai said, happy to have something to tease about after the serious conversation between them. She put her arms under the heavy platter and whisked it off to the dining room.

The mother had barely left the kitchen before the daughter entered it.

"Looks like this Gilmore lass is the opposite of the elder!" Sookie exclaimed, seeing the glum look on Rory's face. "What's wrong, Kitten? Did you not sleep well?"

"No, I…Well, yes, to be truthful. I didn't sleep." Rory patted Davey's downy head as she passed by the table. She poured herself a small cup of coffee, added cream from the pitcher, and plunked herself down at the table. "I found myself unable to sleep because I was formulating an argument to present to Momma."

"Ooh, a present for Momma?" Lorelai teased, coming back into the kitchen at that moment. "Give it here!"

Rory cast Sookie a guilty look and then stared down into her mug.

"Rory? What is it?" Lorelai glanced questioningly at Sookie and then took a seat herself, frowning at Rory.

In preparation, Rory took a big breath. "I want to go to Connecticut."

"What?" Lorelai's voice was very faint, praying she'd misheard, but her hand pressed itself over her heart, already knowing she'd heard true.

"If you think on it, Momma, you'll see that this could not happen at a better time," Rory rushed on, anxious to list all of her reasons. "School is nearly done for the year, so my lessons are not an impediment. Spring weather is practically upon us, so train travel should be smooth and not problematic. Sookie and Jackson are not yet ready to move to their homestead, so they will be here to run the boarding house while we're gone. And we are all newly acquainted with Mr. Hayden, so accepting accommodations with him will not be awkward. So you see, this is the most favorable time for us to go."

Lorelai blinked a few times at her daughter, who looked as though she'd just delivered a gold-star paper in front of her class. "Rory…that's not…that's not possible."

"I fail to see why not," Rory replied carelessly.

"For one thing…there's the expense of traveling. There's no way we could afford such a trip."

"We don't need to worry about that," Rory said with a superior air. "Mr. Hayden said he'd gladly pay our way."

"He discussed this with you?" The halting, fearful speech pattern disappeared as Lorelai snapped out her words in anger. "Christopher had no right to fill your head with this mad scheme! How dare he think he could circumvent me by preying on you!"

"Because he knows you well, Mother! He knew you would dismiss his kindness as charity. He knew you'd be too proud to accept his gift. That's why he told me."

"Rory, you have no idea what trouble a trip back east would brew."

"If you don't want to have a reunion with your family, that's your choice. But let me go. Let me accept Mr. Hayden's kind offer. He wants me to meet his daughter, and he will gladly host me at his own home. He will willingly present me to my grandparents."

Lorelai was sure her heart stopped. "No!" she gasped out.

"Why not?" Rory pressed. "He believes they would welcome me, and that this fight between you can be put to rest. Let me go and be the peacemaker between you!"

"Rory, no! Do you hear me? No!" In agitation, Lorelai jumped out of her chair and began to pace around the room.

"I might find your argument more convincing if you could give me a reason other than 'no,'" Rory said sulkily.

Lorelai whirled around to face her. "Because you're but a child! You have no idea the dangers that could arise, traveling unaccompanied across the continent! You are far too young to even contemplate such a thing!"

"That's rich, considering how old you yourself were when you fled here, with me in your arms!"

"That was a completely different circumstance! I became an adult quickly, because I had to!"

"The same way that I am kept a child, because you don't want to see me as anything other than your little girl! Well, Mother, it's time you realize you can't have it both ways! You can't portray yourself as mature and sensible at 16, while I am helpless and foolish at the same age! Or if I am, it's because that is your wish!"

"There is no comparison! I grew up because I had to! You have been permitted to keep your youth and pursue your studies to accomplish your dreams. I refuse to apologize for allowing you to keep your girlhood for as long as possible!"

Eyes blazing, Rory stood up too, facing Lorelai, her arms crossed. "I want to go to Connecticut, Mother. If you forbid me now, I'll go when I no longer need your permission. You can't prevent me from meeting my family."

"Stop calling me 'Mother!'" Lorelai shouted, losing all patience.

Rory was still angry, but she looked momentarily flummoxed. "What quibble can you have with 'mother?'" she questioned.

"It's what my own mother insisted I call her," Lorelai grumbled.

"And why is that any different than you wanting me to call you 'momma?'" Rory snorted with derision. "Again, you are making the rules I'm expected to follow, whether it's a pet name or being allowed to meet my own grandparents! I'm old enough to be making some of these decisions myself, without your interference!"

Davey had been following the action in the kitchen intently, not able to decide if the loud voices between two of his favorite people in the world warranted his intervention or not. Rory's last outburst made his lips tremble, and a wail soon followed.

"That's enough from you two!" Sookie swooped between them, lifting up her little boy from his highchair to comfort him. "You should both be ashamed, scaring Davey with your ridiculous antics!"

Sookie's chastisement made both of them stop flinging their angry words about, but they still looked ready to go another round. They glared at each other, hands on hips, unintentionally mirroring the other.

Sookie shook her head. "Lorelai! Go take the rest of the food into the dining room and check to see what else is needed. Now!" she added, when Lorelai didn't immediately follow her directions.

Once Lorelai left, with a flounce and one last angry look back over her shoulder, Sookie turned to Rory. "And for you, young Lorelai, perhaps it's time for you to review your catechism. Since you love your book learning so much, I'm sure you're familiar with the commandment to honor your parents. Perhaps you should take that to heart."

"I'm not a child," Rory muttered, Sookie's rare reprimand making her cheeks blaze.

"No, you're not," Sookie agreed calmly, cuddling Davey against her. "But you're nowhere near grown, either. Seems to me you need to review what all your mother has done for you so far in your life and be grateful. Not many girls are able to live a life with the benefits you have known. She has sacrificed to give you this life of ease. If she is denying this to you now, you need to at least consider that it may be what_ is_ best for you, since every other single thing she has ever done has been with your happiness in sight." Sookie took a hand away from Davey and affectionately squeezed Rory's shoulder. "You know how much your mother loves you. That's not ever in doubt, Rory, and you know it."

"I know." Rory still looked troubled, but she sighed and let the anger go. "But I don't know why we can't at least discuss it."

"Perhaps if you try to discuss it as an adult, she will see you as such," Sookie advised, raising her eyebrows at the girl. "But for now, let it pass. Go get ready for school, and let your mother have some time to cool her temper. Go now. I'll fix some bread and butter for you to eat on the way."

"All right. What you say is sensible, that I should let it go for now." Reluctantly Rory left the kitchen.

"And what about you, my boy? Do you want to shout at your mama, too?" Sookie asked Davey, swinging him about and making him giggle. She put him back into his chair, making sure some pieces of bread were close enough for him to reach if he was still hungry.

Lorelai raced back into the kitchen, looking for Rory, and when she didn't see her, she started down the hallway that led to her bedroom and Rory's.

"No, you don't," Sookie decreed, grabbing Lorelai's arm and keeping her in the kitchen. "Let the girl go for now. Both of you take a step back from this. 'Twill do no good, to keep harping on the disagreement now."

"But, Sookie, she can't –"

"Maybe she can't. Maybe she can. The only thing for certain is that more shouting this morning will accomplish nothing. Let her go to school and you go about your day. Both of you think on it. Then when the time comes to talk of it again, maybe you'll be able to talk without harsh words. But neither of you will change the other's mind this morning, that much is certain."

Lorelai hung her head. "I hate to let her go, with these bad feelings between us."

"'Twas bound to happen at some point!" Sookie chuckled. "I never saw a mother and daughter so attuned as the two of you! I worshipped my mother, but still we had our disagreements and sharp words. And it goes without saying that you and your mother had your spats. Be thankful you went 16 years before hearing such a tirade from your daughter. I dare say that may be some sort of world record!"

"Maybe you're right," Lorelai conceded sadly. "Maybe it's inevitable that mothers and daughters eventually disagree."

"Don't let it spoil your day," Sookie advised. "It's nothing you have to worry about right now. Feel free to go back and pick up that happy face you had on earlier this morning!"

"I'll see if I can find it," Lorelai sighed. "Davey, do you have my happy face?" She made a goofy face at him and the boy chortled back, kicking out his chubby legs.

Sookie started back to the stove, but stopped and came to Lorelai instead, smothering her with a fierce hug. "You are as dear to me as sister, Lorelai. You know that you can tell me absolutely anything, don't you?" She loosened her hold but stayed close. Her next words came out slowly, showing how carefully she was considering them. "Love makes our hearts open without judgment. Remember that, should you need me."

Lorelai turned and hugged Sookie back. "Thank you, Susannah St. James Bellville," she said very formally, trying to joke them back into a lighter mood. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sookie chuckled, once again ready to tackle the rest of her breakfast tasks. "Well, you'll have to for today. Remember, Jackson is coming to get Davey and me today, to take us out to see the farm. You're sure you'll be fine here?"

"I'll be fine." Raising her head, Lorelai smiled reassuringly at Sookie. A thrill of excitement rushed through her stomach as she again remembered what all this day might yet bring. It made it easier to forget the unpleasantness she'd just weathered with her daughter.

* * *

Lorelai rushed through her morning chores. Finally all that was left was some ironing to do, which was a task she actually enjoyed, as long as the weather wasn't fiercely hot. She got out the ironing board and tested the irons heating up on the stove. She sprinkled the first sheet and got busy chasing the wrinkles from it.

Once again her excitement filled her up and made her feet keep time to imaginary music. Soon she was singing. She sang every verse of "My Darling Clementine." Then she began making some up, starting with one dedicated to her current chore.

"Oh my darling,

Oh my darling,

Oh my darling, ironing board,

You make my sheets all smooth and purty,

Oh my darling, ironing board."

The last item she had to iron she'd laundered with special care. Now she placed the blue bandana on the board, using her hands to carefully stretch it out. She sprinkled it with lavender water, and ever so cautiously placed the hot iron on it. She certainly didn't want to scorch the Sheriff's prized bandana!

"Oh my darling,

Oh my darling,

Oh my darling, Sheriff Danes!"

She couldn't hold back a giggle at that.

"You are found and mine forever,

Oh, my darling, Sheriff Danes!"

She folded up the bandana precisely, making sharp creases with the iron. When it was done to her satisfaction, she returned the iron to cool down on the edge of the stove and took the precious blue square back to her room.

While getting ready for her highly anticipated trip to town, Lorelai kept humming. She took off her everyday dress and freshened up. She brushed out her hair and then put it up with extra care. She stepped into her second-best dress, the dark blue one with violet flowers on it, the one that had been her Sunday dress last year. She made sure that all of the tiny pearl buttons on her sleeves were fastened.

Right before she put on her bonnet, she remembered how he seemed to like her curls. She pulled a few strands out from around her face, spiraling them around her finger so that they'd snap back into their natural shape. She pulled loose some at her neck too, letting them dangle down her neck. Then she put on her bonnet, tying the new blue ribbon alongside her cheek. Not only had she found time to replace her old dowdy bonnet trims one night while suffering through a long-winded argument over the supposed advantages of living in Connecticut, but she'd had enough left over to line the inside of her bonnet, too. And she had to agree with the Sheriff, the blue ribbon did indeed bring out her eyes.

She opened her reticule and carefully placed his bandana inside, but not until after she'd lightly scented it with a few drops of her perfume. She put her finger over the top of the decanter again, this time dabbing the scent on her throat. She smiled, imagining him using the bandana next and this time thinking of her.

The weather was still trying to decide if it was spring or winter. The wind on this gray day was blowing down out of the mountains, but it didn't feel as sharp. Lorelai decided she could get by with folding her heavier shawl over her arms instead of a coat. She went up on her tiptoes, checking out her appearance in the glass over her dresser. She leaned forward, preparing to pinch her cheeks into rosiness, but her beaming face in the mirror told her that wasn't needed today.

Confident, she hurried out of the boarding house and toward Luke.

* * *

Today she had no problem in stopping in front of the sheriff's door and boldly entering. Thanks to the freshly laundered blue cloth in her purse, she had a perfectly plausible reason for stopping by.

Dean looked up from reading a dime novel when the door opened. He rose up on his lanky legs when he saw it was her. "Morning, ma'am."

She nodded at him, but her eyes moved quickly to the other desk, where Luke sat. He had a pile of 'wanted' posters in front of him, and with great concentration he was marking them off against a list.

"Good morning, Sheriff," she said teasingly, unable to wait for him to look up and notice her.

He started at her voice. For a moment he only stared at her, his face unreadable. Finally he scooted back his chair and stood up, reluctantly, it seemed. "Mrs. Gilmore," he said, and there was no hint of teasing in his tone. It was obvious he meant the greeting to be proper and nothing else.

The first hint of apprehension fluttered across Lorelai's heart. "How are you?" she asked, needing something to say.

He shrugged, looking off to the side. "Something we can help you with?" Apparently there was no desire on his part for small talk today.

"I…" Lorelai was incredibly thankful to be able to fumble with the clasp on her purse, to be able to draw out the evidence that she had a genuine reason to visit. She handed him the neat bandana. "I wanted to bring this back to you."

He snatched it from her fingers and tossed it quickly into a drawer of the desk, taking no time to take notice of the ironed creases or the faint scent. "That wasn't necessary. I told you to keep it."

"But still, I didn't wish to, should you have need of it." Her pounding heart told her how wrong this exchange was going, but yet she kept on, not knowing what else to do. "Perhaps you should keep it on hand, in case you need to come to my rescue again after a gallop across the prairie."

Luke's jaw tightened, as if in pain. "There won't be that opportunity again. I don't believe my duties will allow for riding out like that again."

"Oh!" Lorelai nodded, feeling sick with the unspoken tension between them. "Well, I…I wouldn't want you to shirk your duties." She didn't know where to safely rest her eyes.

Dean's novel hit the desk. "I think I'll go see what Sniffy's is serving for dinner today," he offered, anxious to escape.

"There's no need for that," Luke informed him. "Mrs. Gilmore won't be here that long."

Lorelai's throat quivered and she strained to keep her voice from faltering. "No. I mean yes, that's right. I should be on my way. I'll just…I'll see you tomorrow then, at the festivities?" She didn't know why she forged on, why she needed him to confirm that it was all over between them, but she did. She needed to hear it.

"About that…" Luke sighed. "I'm afraid I was overly optimistic about that. It wouldn't be fair to you, to wait on me as I do my patrols and stay on duty. It's probably best if you go on your own."

Lorelai nodded manically, swallowing down as much hurt as she could. "Of course. Of course, I understand," she managed to say, although her voice was choked from watching her dream fall apart before her. "I'll go then. Let you get back to work." She tried to smile, to keep her head up, to retain some pride while she stumbled back towards the door.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Gilmore!" Dean called after her, valiantly trying to be polite.

Luke said nothing.

Lorelai's hands were stiff, almost as if they were frozen. She struggled to pull the door closed behind her.

"Luke! What the hell?" she heard Dean shout at Luke, believing her out of earshot. "I thought you were sparking her! What made you be so mean to her?"

"Mind your own business, Deputy," Luke growled.

She gave up on the door, leaving it unlatched. She needed to get home. Home, where her tattered dignity could slip completely away and she could just sit and try to remember how to breathe again.

Her legs carried her without input from her brain. She tripped over the first step at the boarding house before she realized she'd made it there.

Inside the door she felt safe. Still shattered, but safe. Automatically she went through the silent house to her room, where she laid her shawl and purse on her bed. She took off her bonnet, shaking her curls out of her face. She didn't look into the mirror, not wanting to see her distraught face.

In the kitchen she looked about, wondering what to do. Sookie had left her food to warm up, but she had no desire to eat. She thought about putting on the kettle, but even making tea seemed too daunting a task.

The house was oddly unfamiliar in its silence. Sookie and Davey were gone on their trip to the farm and Rory was still at school. Mrs. Lanahan was with the women's group at church for the day, and Michel was at a committee meeting to discuss the upcoming summer concerts. Kirk had taken his mother to visit one of his many siblings. The few other regular boarders were at their jobs, and it was too early for any travelers to arrive.

Lorelai sank down into a chair at the kitchen table, letting the silence underscore the pain in her heart. She wasn't sure what had happened to turn Luke against her, but she knew the ultimate cause was rooted in Christopher's inopportune visit. He'd ruined whatever had been starting to grow between her heart and Luke's. Then he'd managed to ruin the bond that had existed since birth between her and Rory. He'd ruined everything.

In the past 16 years, Lorelai had allowed herself to shed very few tears. They were an indulgence she couldn't afford. She had Rory and a future to forge. She couldn't waste time, crying over the slights and disappointments of the past. But today…today no one needed her. Today she had the time and the privacy to let the tears wash out some of the hurt. Slowly she crumpled down onto the tabletop, letting the tears flow.

She sobbed until her eyes felt swollen and her throat felt raw. Finally she got up and went to the pump, washing her face at the sink. She dried off with a sigh, once again looking around at the kitchen, trying to work up some enthusiasm for eating Sookie's always delicious leftovers.

She opened the breadbox and stared dully inside. Even as sad as she was about losing the promising relationship with Luke, she knew if she had to choose between love and keeping Rory safe, she'd still choose Rory every time. She wasn't wavering about that. She had just hoped that after so many years of being responsible that it was finally going to be time for her to have both.

Uninterested in eating, she let the lid drop on the breadbox. She turned around and decided that her moping needed to come to an end. She walked into her room and picked up the massive pile of mending hiding there. She might as well be productive while she nursed her broken heart and wallowed in her sorrow.

She was just getting herself settled in the parlor, where the light was best, when someone began pounding on the front door.

Lorelai rushed to the door and nearly threw it open, anxious to stop the loud noise. But at the last minute she thought of Luke's warning about letting people into the house, and called out instead. "Who is it?" she demanded sharply.

"It's…It's…"

That brought out a gasp from her, because although Luke apparently couldn't figure out how to identify himself, she recognized his voice immediately. She pulled open the door before he could say anything else.

Not expecting her to open the door so quickly, Luke stepped backwards, nearly losing his balance. He gave her a baleful look, but was still polite enough to sweep the hat from his head. "Just wanted to make sure you got home all right," he said curtly, turning to go.

"Really? You thought I wasn't capable of finding my way home? You thought that your ungentlemanly behavior had upset me to such a degree that I would stumble out upon the prairie instead and perish there?" Lorelai had thought herself heartbroken, but she was pleased to hear that she could still formulate a retort.

"Obviously not." Luke swallowed several times and looked around the porch desperately. "I'll go then, seeing as you're fine."

"Was there something else you wished to say?" Lorelai stepped just barely outside of the door, glad to feel anger filling her up. That was preferable to the sadness of a few minutes earlier. "Because you seem as though you have something more to say. Perhaps something else to let me know how little you hold me in your regard? Maybe I missed your message earlier, in spite of your bluntness. Best to be certain."

"Just following your lead," he shot back at her.

Her jaw dropped open. "My lead?" she questioned.

"You know, I feel pretty stupid," he told her sarcastically. "I know I'm not the brightest fellow around, but I thought – never mind." He abruptly broke off his words, flinging his arms out in agitation. All at once he caught sight of her face and stopped still, looking at her closely. "Have you been crying?"

"No!" Lorelai denied immediately, while a hand quickly went up to her eyes, proving her to be a liar.

"Crying over _him_," Luke guessed, sounding disgusted. "Crying because your beloved has left you."

"That is _not _true!"

He'd begun pacing across the porch, and now he spun around, pointing his hat at her in accusation. "I saw you! Yesterday, seeing him off at the train. Cuddling together, so nice and cozy. Sharing goodbye kisses. Saw it with my own eyes, so don't bother telling me it's not true!"

"You were there?" Lorelai said blankly, casting about in her memory, trying to fathom where he could have been at the station. "Where were you?"

"I was…outside," he said vaguely. "Watching," he added darkly.

"Watching! Watching me? Spying on me?" The anger was bubbling over again. "What is it with you men, thinking that it's perfectly permissible to spy on me?"

"I tried not to care that you had him here with you, keeping him in your house for over a week –"

"And just where else could he have stayed?"

"– but when I saw you two yesterday, I knew it was all over! I knew the truth, that you were still his –"

"That is not true! Luke! That is _not_ true!"

"I _saw_ you, Lorelai." His voice came close to breaking. "I saw how you were together."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, not wanting to give the neighbors anything more to gossip about. "We were saying goodbye, Luke. I was _happy_ he was leaving, not sad. _He_ kissed _me_!" She pointed to her forehead. "Here." Pointed to her cheek. "Here. I did not kiss him, Luke, I did not!"

For a moment they both stared at the other, each chest heaving with emotion, doubt making everything tremble in the balance. Lorelai got herself together and spoke first.

"I'm not some self-centered girl, Luke. I would not toy with your affections while entertaining some former suitor. I would not! Not when you had brought me home, and we stood together out on the street, and we had this sweet moment, and I thought we –" She clenched her lips together and shook her head, not wanting to say too much. She looked at him beseechingly and her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I would not, not when I thought there was a chance for us."

He didn't speak. He did nothing but breathe hard and study her face, trying, she thought, to see into her soul. She stood still and let him search through everything she was.

"Lorelai." His voice had wonder in it.

Then he had her in his arms, his lips on hers.

The delightful shock of his kiss traveled down to her toes, but shortly she sensed how much he was keeping himself in check. Perhaps because he did not want to overwhelm her? Or still he did not trust her, more likely. She frowned under his lips, not liking that.

Her hand went to the back of his neck. She stroked his skin there, slid her fingers into his hair, letting his own overly-long curls graze her knuckles. She added pressure, drawing him closer against her. She softened her lips, letting them spread out in enticement against his. She raised her body slightly, letting herself mold up against him.

With a groan, Luke caved. A slight thump announced his hat hitting the floor. He hauled her tightly up against him, his mouth caressing hers in every way possible to prolong the kiss.

A cold gust of air blew in through the open door. They stepped apart, still staring at each other. Luke turned and slammed the door shut. Then they fell into each other's arms again, this kiss reading as intimate from the first touch. She felt more of her hair come loose against her neck, as his hand tangled into the back of her head, holding her close.

Luke broke the kiss and laid his head against hers. "Lorelai, whatever it is, you have to tell me. Please, just tell me. Knowing that you're lying to me is just about killing me."

Fear shook through her body. When it had passed, she gently turned Luke's head. She looked him in the eyes, knowing that his kisses had already sealed the decision for her. "I will," she told him, making him as true of a promise as she ever had.

"But first –" She drew his face to hers and kissed him again. She kissed him with her whole heart as well as her whole mouth. She thought there was a very good chance that when she finished telling him what was hidden he would not want to kiss her again, so she wanted one more opportunity to revel in the headiness of his affection. She desired a few more fleeting seconds of feeling like she belonged to him. Surely she deserved at least that.

Luke groaned, but it almost sounded like a laugh, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck. "If this is your way of trying to make me forget what you need to tell me, it's working."

"No." She tenderly ran her hands over his face. "I just wanted one more kiss." She bent over and grabbed up his hat, then straightened up and took his hand, leading him into the parlor.

"Is this all right?" he questioned, looking back out at the dining room and the stairs. "Does this afford enough privacy?"

"There's no one else here right now," she assured him. "Let me take your coat." She hung it and his hat on the hooks just inside the door and motioned for him to take a seat. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you." He looked around at the furniture arrangement in the room, and then walked up to the front window, where a small table and two chairs resided. He sat down in one of the chairs, watching her. "I'd rather not take up time waiting for tea to brew. I'd rather hear you talk."

"Well, I actually meant this sort of drink," Lorelai explained, walking across the room and picking up a decanter displayed on a buffet. "Elderberry wine. Mia always kept some on hand for medicinal purposes, or so she said." She swirled the clear red liquid around in the cut glass. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure," Luke said, making a face.

"I'm rather certain I'm going to need it." Lorelai sighed, pouring some into a tiny stemmed cup that matched the decanter. She tossed it back, as if it was medicine. She shuddered, poured another dose, and tossed it down, too.

She turned around to see Luke looking at her in a scandalized fashion, but there was a hint of a smile there, too. "It's not that bad, is it?" he asked hopefully. She wasn't sure if he meant the wine or the dire secrets hidden in her soul.

"It's pretty bad," Lorelai murmured, not wanting to mislead him. She took the seat on the other side of the small table, the kerosene lantern and Mia's Bible taking up the space between them. She laid her clasped hands on the tabletop, wondering how in the world to tell this sweet man her story. She closed her eyes, wishing there'd been something stronger in the decanter.

"Take your time," he said gently.

No use putting it off. She rubbed her hands together, feeling the ring she'd worn for so long. That was probably as good a way to begin as any. She worked the thin gold band off of her finger and laid it on the table, pushing it a few inches closer to him.

"Everything you know about me is a lie, Luke. Including this ring. I've never been married. The only Mr. Gilmore in my life is my father. There's no young husband, dying tragically and leaving me with a baby." She took a deep breath, not able to look him in the face. "I had…I had Rory outside of marriage."

He leaned forward, reaching across the table to grab her hand. "You're _not_ married? Are you telling me the truth?"

She looked at him quizzically, not able to reconcile his question with her confession. "Never married. Not even once."

"Thank God," he muttered, and slumped back in his chair in relief.

"Luke…" She shook her head at him. "Did you miss the confession about me being a fallen woman? About Rory being born out of wedlock?"

"But you're free?" he asked, still anxious. "Hayden has no claim on you?"

"Totally free," she said, not knowing yet how to take his reaction. "Free and with a daughter as a bonus."

"I was so worried you'd married him as a girl," he admitted. He sat up and then hunched over, hanging his head and clasping his hands between his knees as he gave voice to his fears. "I was so afraid you were still tied to him." He turned his head to see her, his deep blue eyes holding her gaze. "That was the only thing I didn't know how we'd handle."

"_That_ was the only thing?" Lorelai continued to shake her head. "Luke, you amaze me. Do you not care about my past? That I was a foolish girl? That I made a mistake that has haunted me all of my life since?"

He smiled at her then, a tender, glowing smile. "No, Lorelai. I don't care. I don't care a flip about that."

Tears welled up in her eyes and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Many times through the years she had imagined telling someone her secret, but she'd never once imagined that whoever she told wouldn't care. Suddenly she felt forgiven and whole again, in a way she hadn't since first learning she was pregnant.

"Aw, Lorelai." He leaned across the table again, grasping her forearms. "It's all right, sweetheart. I'm not walking out. Tell me the rest."

"The rest?" Her voice wobbled.

"What else is a lie? You said everything I knew about you was a lie. Is your name a lie?"

"No."

"The fact that you're a remarkable mother? Is that a lie?"

She could only shake her head, grateful that he thought her remarkable in anything.

"Or that you were the best thing to ever happen to Mia? That you run her place in a way that would make her so proud, if she could see you? Is that a lie?"

Again, she shook her head, unable to speak.

"Or that you're kind, and funny, and a good friend to all? Is any of that a lie?"

"Luke." She could barely croak out his name.

"It sounds like everything I know about you is true, Lorelai." He suddenly looked pained. "Please don't cry," he pleaded.

"I'm not," she said, blinking furiously. "But Luke, everyone else will care. Are you sure you want to face all that? The gossip? The whispers? People talking behind your back, about how foolish you were to let yourself get saddled with me? If my secret ever gets out, you'll be tainted by it too. I don't wish for you to suffer because of my mistake."

He sat back a little, regarding her. "Who else does know?"

"No one."

"No one?" he asked skeptically. "Sookie?"

"No," she insisted. "Only Mia. Mia knew, but she took it to the grave. No one else."

Now he was the one shaking his head. "Rory knows, surely."

"No." Lorelai hesitated. "I didn't want her to be burdened with it."

His eyebrows rose. "I'm not sure knowing the truth about your parents would be a burden," he remarked, but didn't press the issue. He paused, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Hayden must know." When Lorelai gasped, he looked at her, for the first time with pity. "Rory is his daughter, is she not?"

"Yes," she said faintly. "How did you –"

"I saw her standing next to him," Luke told her. "I always thought she looked exactly like you, but there was something about the shape of her face, when I saw them side by side. I could see both of you in her, then. I didn't want to, but I saw it."

"I'm so sorry." Lorelai closed her eyes, ashamed.

"No. Don't. Rory's a wonderful girl. Who her father is isn't going to change that."

"I'm beginning to suspect I'm dreaming, Luke. How is it possible that you are so easy with all this?"

"It's not obvious to you?" he asked wryly.

She could only shake her head, still amazed at his calm reaction.

He chuckled, mostly to himself, she thought. "I'll save the reason then, if you don't mind, and use it on some future day when I need to impress you. In the meantime, will you answer a few more questions for me?"

"Anything," she stated simply, trusting him more than ever.

"About Hayden," he frowned. "Did he abandon you when he learned a baby was coming?"

"Chris? No, of course not. He didn't know."

"How could that be?" Luke asked dubiously.

"He had been sent to Europe by his family, as a reward for finishing school. It was while he was gone that I discovered my condition. My family hid me away, and I was not allowed to contact him. He had no idea that he was going to be a father."

Luke nodded, but didn't look completely convinced. "Lorelai, I'm sorry, but there's one more thing I have to ask, for my own peace of mind, and I can't think of how to put this delicately. Did he force relations on you?"

"_Chris_?" Lorelai came close to laughing. "Luke, you met him! Really, do you think him the sort of scoundrel who would corrupt poor innocent girls?"

"Unfortunately, being sheriff, I sometimes think all men capable of such depravities. But if you say he is not, I'll take you at your word."

Lorelai sobered. "I know awful things happen, and possibly I could garner some sympathy if I claimed abuse. But in truth that was not what happened. He was as much a boy as I was a girl, Luke. Both innocent. We were left to our own devices by parents who didn't look beyond their own noses. They thought it sweet that we cared so much about each other. They didn't realize that we saw ourselves as already united, first against our families, and then as something deeper. We barely understood what we had discovered. It was an error in judgment not only for us, but for our parents, too."

"He was older than you?"

"A little. Not much."

Luke was still frowning. "Your parents were angry when it came to light?"

"They were devastated. They couldn't believe that I'd brought such shame onto the family. I hid it well; so well that by the time my mother found it out, there was little to do to avoid a scandal."

"So what did they do?"

"My father took it over. He was so ashamed that he could barely glance my way. He worked with a solicitor he thought trustworthy and procured a house in Chicago. The family knew no one there; he thought it was therefore safe to send me there. Meanwhile they told all our acquaintances that they had sent me off to a finishing school abroad to explain my absence."

"Why didn't they tell Hayden's family the truth? I'd think your father would want to get satisfaction there."

"Christopher's father was ruthless. There was no guarantee that he would choose to believe that Chris was the father, even if Chris swore to it. And I believe my father feared that Mr. Hayden would use the information against him, if necessary. In our circle gossip was something to be feared on many levels."

Luke sorrowfully shook his head. "Glad that's something I haven't experienced."

"One of the reasons I haven't missed my old home," Lorelai said softly. "It's one of the reasons I love living here."

"So you went to Chicago?"

"Yes. My father hired a nurse, and a maid, as well as a housekeeper and a butler. He paid them enough to earn their silence."

"Wait. Are you saying that your parents sent you there alone? To wait out your time with strangers?"

Lorelai nodded.

"But they visited, surely."

"No, Luke, they did not. They did not wish to see me. You must remember that they were ashamed of me."

He reached for her hand and held it tightly. "How long were you there?"

"It was July when I was banished. Rory's birthday is in October, as you know."

He squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Your mother surely came for your confinement."

She squeezed his hand back, finding his naiveté heartwarmingly charming. "Luke, they wanted to pretend that the whole situation didn't exist. Of course my mother didn't wish to be there when the baby came, and frankly, I was just as happy that she was not. She would have made the whole situation a thousand times worse."

Luke leaned a little bit further over the tiny table, raising his other hand to gently touch her face. "You must have been so frightened. So young, so far away from your family, and facing such an ordeal."

"Birth is frightening, I believe, no matter how old you are or what the circumstances. I was fortunate to have such a loyal group taking care of me. My father hired the household staff and gave them their orders, but they voluntarily gave their allegiance to me. By the time Rory was born, they were all devoted to my comfort and well-being."

"I'm glad," Luke murmured in relief. Reluctantly he drew back his hand. "What happened after Rory was born?"

Lorelai closed her eyes again, battling bad memories. She swallowed hard. "The plan was that the baby would be quietly adopted soon after birth. My father's solicitor located a suitable family. He and the nurse would take the baby to her new family, while I stayed away long enough to regain my figure and return home once again in marriageable condition. My parents toyed with the idea of actually sending me to Europe, so that I would be able to talk about my travels with confidence."

"Since you and Rory are here, I'm guessing those plans went awry," Luke speculated, smiling nervously at her.

This was the worst part, and Lorelai wrapped her arms around herself, already shivering from the memories being evoked. "Oh, Luke. She was the most beautiful little baby ever. I held her in my arms and it…it was love. Such deep love. I could not blithely bid her farewell, as if she never existed. She was mine, do you understand? How could I give away a piece of my own heart?"

"You couldn't," Luke agreed instantly. "Of course you couldn't."

"But the plans were in motion and we could only delay, not thwart them completely. The dear nurse gave one fabricated reason after another to my father as to why the baby couldn't leave me yet. Each week of her deceit gave me another seven days to build up my strength; for Rory to gain another bit of weight. By then everyone in the house adored Rory and would have done anything to protect her and keep us together. But time ran out. By early December my father, the lawyer, the adoptive family: everyone had lost patience. They were coming for Rory, and that was that."

Luke didn't speak, just waited for her to regain her composure and continue the story.

"My protectors made a plan as well. They sold everything in the house that wasn't bolted down and gave me the money. They gave me as much of their own salaries as they could afford. They packed me up, took me to the grand railway station, and helped me buy a ticket to take me as far away as possible. They kissed me and hugged me and shed tears over Rory, and then they disbanded and disappeared."

"They never got in touch with you again?"

"There was no way. They had no idea where I ended up." She gave him a shaky smile. "I think of them often, wondering where they are; hoping that their lives have been full of riches to reward them for what they did for me."

"The trip must have been hard," Luke said sympathetically.

"I had no idea what I was facing, alone with an infant that needed constant care. I didn't dare sleep for more than a wink or two, for fear that I would drop her or hurt her somehow. I had a ticket to St. Louis, and once I got there I had to decide what to do next. I thought that it would be easier to disappear out here in open country, so I bought a ticket onward. I thought my parents more likely to look for me in a big city, so Colorado seemed like a much safer place. I heard the conductor say 'Star-Crossed.' 'Such a pretty name,' I thought when I heard it. In so many ways I was still a romantic little girl. So I got off here."

"I know some of the story after that," Luke volunteered. "I know the weather was awful the night you got here, and I know that Babette and Morey found you wandering the streets. I know they took you to Mia."

"So many angels looking after us," Lorelai murmured. "They got me inside the door," she said, gesturing towards it, "and that's almost the only thing I remember. I was so tired I just collapsed into Mia's arms. Rory was sick with a fever and I was too. Over the next few days I kept waking up in the middle of the most lovely, warm feather bed. I'd wake up, frantically looking for Rory, and every time Mia was right there, rocking Rory next to the bed, reassuring me that everything was fine. She kept feeding me broth and tea; wiping my burning face with a soft cloth. It was as close to heaven as I'm ever likely to get."

"Mia always had that way about her," Luke commented. "She loved taking care of folks."

Lorelai just nodded. "I told her the truth, Luke. I don't want you to think I tried to deceive her. The first time I woke up in that heavenly bed, I told her absolutely everything. I told her who I was and why I ran away. She told me not to worry, that it would all be fine." She smiled, her eyes crinkling up in happiness as she remembered the warm contentment from being under Mia's care. "By the time I'd regained enough strength to come back to the living, Mia had already circulated the tale that I was her widowed niece. I never even had to voice the lie. Everyone had heard the story from Mia and had accepted it. Suddenly I had a 'Mrs.' in front of my name and a tragically dead husband providing an alibi."

"God bless Mia," Luke offered.

"Indeed," Lorelai agreed. She picked up the worn gold band. "This belonged to one of Mia's aunts. She gave it to me the day I woke up feeling healthy again. I put it on and never took it off. As long as I had it on, I felt safe. For such a tiny thing, it provided me with a complete disguise."

Luke took the ring from her, turning it over in his hand, contemplating it. Finally he reached for her left hand, and cautiously figured out how to push the ring back onto her finger. He folded his hand over hers. "For now, continue to wear it. If it provides you with comfort, let it remain."

Words caught in her throat and she was reduced to nodding.

Luke kept hold of her hand. "How did Hayden learn the truth?"

"About the baby?"

"Yes."

"From me. In retrospect, maybe not a sensible decision on my part, but at the time I thought it noble. I wrote him a note before I fled Chicago, giving him only the barest details. I thought it might give him peace to know what had become of me and why I had disappeared. I thought he should at least know he had a child." She sighed and smiled tiredly at Luke. "He says he went to Chicago, thanks to the postmark, and searched futilely for me. He claims my father tried to find me as well, but I admit I find that hard to believe. I think my family probably thought themselves lucky that I had the good sense to hide myself and my bastard child away."

"Don't." Luke's voice was gruff. He pressed her hand again, reminding her of his steady presence. "It surely wasn't coincidence that brought Hayden to Star-Crossed. How did he finally find you?"

"He hired a detective to track me down. I don't know how the man did it, but he discovered me here."

Luke dropped her hand, looking stricken. "Oh,no. Lorelai, it was the drunk, wasn't it?" His jaw tensed and his hands turned into fists. "I knew there was something fishy about that guy. I should've looked into him more."

"It doesn't matter," Lorelai consoled him. "Sooner or later it was probably bound to happen. But…" She sighed, looking around the room uneasily. "I confess it's made me jumpy. I look around constantly now, anxious that some shadowy figure will suddenly emerge and snatch Rory away from me." She looked fretfully at Luke, biting at her bottom lip. "It's like it was when she was a newborn, and I feared she'd be taken from me at any moment."

"Is Hayden really that powerful?" Luke questioned. "Could he force you to give her up? Rory is nearly grown. Wouldn't she have a say in where she lives her life?"

"Oh, Luke, I don't know," Lorelai began miserably. "Just this morning she –"

Lorelai's words were cut off when the front door opened and Rory entered the house. She stopped abruptly, seeing her mother and Luke sitting in the parlor.

"Oh, no! What's happened?" She dropped her books on a side table in the entry and rushed into the room, holding out her arms to her mother. "Momma, are you all right?"

Lorelai hurried to her daughter, enfolding her in her arms. "Of course I'm all right, sweetie. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Because the Sheriff is here! And you -" Rory put up a hand to her mother's face. "You look so distressed, Momma. Are you sure all is well?"

Lorelai glanced over at Luke with a small, guilty smile. He'd gotten up as soon as Rory entered the room, but had stayed back, not wanting to interrupt the mother/daughter moment. "All is well, Rory. Luke – uh, the Sheriff is here on a social call. There's no call for alarm."

Rory looked pained. "Then the distress is from me, isn't it?" She sorrowfully shook her head at herself. "I'm sorry, Momma. I'm sorry I upset you. I could barely do my lessons today, thinking on it."

"It's all forgotten, sweet girl!" Lorelai hugged her daughter. "Sookie is not here, but I'm sure she left you some goody back in the kitchen. Why don't you go and find it?"

Rory nodded in relief, smiled shyly at Luke, and left for the kitchen, gathering up her books as she went.

"I should get back to town," Luke said, as soon as she looked at him again. "Supposedly I'm out doing a patrol. At least, that's what I told my deputy, when I left to come find you."

She walked him to the door, sensitive to the little bit of awkwardness springing up between them. She helped him put on his coat, taking the opportunity to smooth her hands across his back. When he turned around to face her, she smiled tentatively. "Thank you for listening to me today, Luke, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your understanding." She kept her voice low, not wanting Rory to hear a word of what she was saying. "I would ask you to please keep what I've told you between us."

"You know I will, but Lorelai…" He sighed and shifted from one foot to the other. "It's been my experience that secrets like these don't keep. They jump out in the open when least convenient. I beg you to tell Rory before she stumbles on the truth herself. She's a smart girl," he cautioned. "It could happen any day, so don't delay the inevitable."

"My only reason for keeping this secret has always been Rory. I've kept it to ease her way in life and keep her from being the center of gossip and disdain. If it was just me, I wouldn't care. I'd take my lumps. But I want more for Rory."

"I understand. Just think on it, though, will you? I don't want to see you suffer more than what you already have."

"I will. I promise." She lowered her head, suddenly shy.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Luke said, picking up his hat and putting his hand towards the door.

Lorelai smiled mischievously. "Oh? Have you changed your mind? Will you be free after all to squire me tomorrow?"

Luke rubbed at his face, where a flush was blooming. "Can we forget I said any of that? Please? That was not me at my best."

"As long as you didn't mean it," Lorelai said, the apprehension from before offering to make a comeback.

"I didn't mean it," Luke said, his voice gruff as he leaned back towards her. "That was just me, hurtin' from what I saw yesterday."

"And I'm sorry about that," Lorelai whispered.

He nodded. "Just come to the square when you're ready. I'll be there, watching the crowd and waiting for you."

"I'll be there as soon as my chores here are done," she promised him.

Another small silence, not quite as awkward, fell between them again. Lorelai noticed how Luke was still leaning towards her with yearning, his eyes coming to rest on her mouth.

She leaned towards him as well, laying her hand against his chest. "After all that's been said and already accomplished between us today, I think you've earned the right to kiss me whenever you like. You needn't ask for permission, Sheriff."

A big grin broke across Luke's face. He put a hand against her cheek. "Lorelai, if I kissed you every time I wanted to, I would soon lose my job. And the boarding house would be wondering what happened to its proprietress." He angled his face to hers then, and kissed her smiling mouth. It was a quick kiss, both of them looking down the hall immediately after to make sure Rory wasn't watching them.

"Luke, I …" Lorelai shook her head. There was still too much she wanted to say to him to sum it up in a few words. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow," he agreed, smiling. He stepped away, opening the door quickly and leaving after a swift nod, as if he didn't want to prolong their goodbye any longer.

She waved once and then shut the door firmly, turning around to go to the kitchen to find her daughter, the happy anticipatory tingling once again finding a home in her from her just-kissed lips to her dancing toes. Although she was happy beyond belief, she still worried about when she'd have enough courage to take Luke's advice and tell Rory everything she deserved to know.

* * *

_What delights will Founder's Day hold for our happy couple? Will Lorelai continue to hide her secret away from her daughter? What will it take to keep Rory content in Colorado? Join us again next time for further adventures in the Old West!_


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